Deep Dive

She lies nestled upon the seabed, in the depths almost beyond the sun; she calls to me, drawing me in ever closer since I first saw her.

Last time I dived, we almost touched fingertips, but I was forced to come up for air, empty-handed, so to speak.

Every time I’ve gotten near to her since—three times now—I’ve woken up flat on my back upon the pier, with Mitch giving me resuscitation and mouth-to-mouth.

Next time, I’ll reach her; I’ll dive when the lifeguards change their shift on the harbour wall—Mitch won’t stop me again.

She’s waiting for me there.

From Guest Contributor Andrew Anderson

Andrew (he/him) is a writer of fiction from Bathgate, Scotland. His work has previously been published by National Flash Fiction Day Press, Sampson Low Ltd., Selcouth Station Press, The Drabble, Black Hare Press, Eerie River Publishing, Paragraph Planet, Steering 23 Publications, and Blood Song Books.

A Visit To Kafka’s Castle

Not just anyone could stay at the castle that claimed in its promotional literature to be Kafka’s birthplace. A person needed a proven reason to be there – in our case, your egg and my semen. I didn't want to rush you, but my Viagra was starting to wear off. You were seeing something no one else had ever seen when the police burst in, waving their nightsticks and demanding, “Who’s the bad man? What does he look like?” This makes everything sound worse than it was, especially as a whale in the harbor was spouting purple music the whole time.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie is on the pavement, thinking about the government.