Sanity

It started to rain as I got down from the ramshackle bus at the edge of the nondescript town. "Which way is the Nowhere Inn?” I asked the man hidden behind the newspaper. There was no response.

“Can you tell me which way…”

“Aren’t we all looking for the way…” the man had strangely glowing eyes. I noticed he had his paper open upside down. “I have an easier route for you…” He flicked out a knife.

Suddenly, a huge van with the legend NEW HOPE ASYLUM drew up.

It was time for me to return to my nightmarish home.

From Guest Contributor Sourya Chowdhury

Sourya is a sports journalist based in New Delhi

The Hunchback

It was a game. Sean and Phil followed the hunchback along the Northland Road on a gloomy October evening. It was something to occupy them. They were slight ten-year-olds, so although the eight-foot wall to their left hampered their manoeuvring, they were able to find cover behind the electric junction boxes, bus tops, and lampposts each time the figure in the long coat and brimmed hat made to turn.

Flushed with excitement at their successful shadowing, the hearts of the play-spies stopped when he tipped his Fedora, and skipped over the wall into the asylum; clipping stone with his hooves.

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

The Coffee Wars

The Coffee Wars began in the 21st century, but unlike the other Great Wars, which ended via the exchange of cash settlements or mineral rights, the Coffee Wars dragged on.

John Grimes was the last survivor. Decades after the plantation riots, Grimes was housed in the Starbucks Asylum. He was kept alive through intravenous caffeination that was still technically against the law, but which was rarely enforced outside of government clinics.

It was Grimes' silent presence that allowed Starbucks, his chief adversary, to eventually quell the resistance. Grimes glumly watched, unable to act, or even speak, through the caffeine-induced shaking.

The Clock

I was walking down Canal Street when a man threw a clock from the roof of a twenty-story building. It smashed into the car next to me and I was startled from my chocolate-induced haze. I really like chocolate when I can get it.

I caught just a glimpse of the man and he looked like an angel, all blond hair and white clothes. I examined the clock, with its hands pointed to 4:44. I wondered if it indicated the start of the rapture.

Later, I realized the angel had escaped from the asylum at the same time I had.