HiroshimaAugust 6, 1945. 2:15 AM, Enola Gay flew steadily into the skies bound for Hiroshima, Japan. I, Sergeant Joseph Stiborik was among the crew as a Radar Operator. The Japanese,…
This is how Papa paints the mountain. He sits in front of the rotting canvas, the numb fingers of his right hand grip the brush and the aluminium paint tray dances…
The Striped GirlThere had never been a colder morning than that in Gembu.The oxygen in the air was replaced with ululation and hissing from parched lips; red, immovable eyes peered…
Things That Never DieIt is 06:17am, and I am late. While waiting for a bus, I am lost in thoughts, of how living can be a playlist on repeat: sleep,…
The Cost of GreedKamal ended his inglorious life in the deep, dark, red fluid-laden churner of the magnitude of the creature of the lake. We had flown over the once…
UntitledWe are fragments of time, and the universe. The bodies we inhabit, like trees, sand, pebbles, wind, and oceans, are passages. We walk through them until the end bell tolls…
UntitledEvery month, Aunty Ifeka made her chickens walk through puddles of colouring, from which they emerged squawking, pink-shod and unmistakably branded.Ezinne enjoyed watching their bright pink feet against the dull…
TJ Benson served the Migrations judges quite the cup of "Tea" with his story of accidents, immigrants and love in a time of illegal labour, set in Sicily. "Tea" was the…
At the end of last year we mentioned that, from time to time, we'd introduce a new element to #WriterPrompt where your stories would be critiqued and judged by a guest…
The CallThe first morning they arrived, almost no one noticed. It took a few hours before the panic started to sweep its wide broom across the open gasp of the…