A child is imprisoned in a basement, but he has friends in the dark.

Alone in a dark basement, Davey’s learned to do much without his eyes. He can hear the groaning of a house that never settles. He can taste different flavours of humidity: rust, cloth, mould, sweat.

A literary flash piece about a guy who manages to make his wife’s cancer about himself.

I tell you there’s still a chance, but these are chapped lips slapping chapped sounds and clapping sad lies.

In a city at the whims of a dead god, Bilal goes on a date with a woman who’s weirdly interested in his curse.

“I have cockroaches for teeth,” Bilal said to his date, on the phone. “Just … thought you should know sooner than later.”

Sam is on the run, but he can’t quite remember why. A horror story about the importance of dental hygiene.

We live in a haze; art conventions to book presentations, second category artists chasing morsels of monetary appreciation. Sleeping in run-down motels, eating run-down food in run-down diners. Driving on run-down roads, where pets turn into road-kill.

A dark fable about a corpse with intimacy issues and a dead ballerina forced to dance for eternity.

She still danced, so light as if hollow, as if bird-boned, but after she died they had tied her up with crisscrossed strings and put a light on her and she couldn’t leave there, ever, and only he came to visit.