5 Slices
  Title Author Publisher Format Buy Remix
Medium 9781552452677

Wide and Blue and Empty

Spencer Gordon Coach House Books ePub

WIDE AND BLUE AND EMPTY

 

 

 

June slips into her refurbished office room at 10:49 p.m., full mug of decaf steaming in her hand, and logs in to ICQ Messenger. Finding Chris offline, she minimizes the ICQ Messenger window (heart sinking slightly, but only just – their ICQ date is set for 11:00) and begins a game of e-solitaire, promising herself she won’t wait for more than fifteen minutes before logging off and heading to bed.

It is silent on the second floor of June’s 2,000-square-foot, semi-detached, four-bedroom home – a property of nine-foot ceilings and deep-set cold cellar, two-car garage and oak floors, gourmet kitchen and walk-in pantry – as she waits for her son, Christopher, living across the province in a tiny apartment in Ottawa, to log in to ICQ and to chat with her. June mouths the word warily – chat – feeling a delicious tingle of anticipation. Having bought the internet only three months prior, June still approaches the web as a wild and newfangled landscape, still tinged with the risks of danger and provocation. Every time she logs on she feels bold and daring, strangely and surreally modern. She feels especially sophisticated considering that she, fifty-four years old and feeling absolutely ancient, could actually be in a chat room, and that soon her son might join her and write her text messages in real time, his written phrases appearing in a cute pc window with its accompanying Uh-oh! sound bite. It wasn’t exactly how she envisioned the future, but it was certainly exciting.

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Medium 9781574411850

tom and georgia come over to swim

Rebecca Meacham University of North Texas Press PDF

t o m a n d ge o rg i a c o m e ove r t o s w i m

135

of boxed waffles and paper-wrapped T-bones. Lingering in the chill, she takes out an ice tray; she’ll have a quick Beam and Coke before Tom and Georgia arrive. She’ll mix it light, pouring almost all Coke: a little something sweet and cool on her throat, but with enough edge and weight to steel her insides.

Pauline was surprised to see Tom and Georgia at the 5-Star today, out and about, even shopping, like any other day. Since their daughter Carrie’s funeral a few weeks ago, it seems like their front door hasn’t opened, though cars line the curb all the way to

Pauline’s mailbox. Every time she drives by, Pauline is struck by how everything outside—the volleyball net and plump rhododendrons—looks exactly the same. But when she wheeled her cart into produce this morning, there they stood, Georgia touching the rough husks of cantaloupes, Tom staring at the grapes in the cart. Pauline chattered stupidly about the clumsy new paperboy, the slow mail this week, anything just to fill the silence between them. Pauline noticed their cart was absent of its usual fruit pops and cereal. Her own cart seemed too full of such things, garish with cartoon colors.

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Medium 9789810861131

Up and Down the Spine by Joseph Hoye

Goodwin, Temari & Hoye (Editors) Monsoon Books ePub
"Up and Down the Spine" by Joseph Hoye

A romance short story set in Singapore, first published in "Love and Lust in Singapore" (Monsoon Books, Singapore)

Eduardo or Gordon? That was the choice facing Grace. She put her book down on the bedside table and looked at the sleeping Gordon Tham: snoring, hair receding, crooked teeth, a pot belly, sour breath, still snoring but now with saliva starting to foam at one corner of his mouth. Her small crow’s-feet tightened as she took measure of the man. The scales were tilting. She reached for her book to consider Eduardo Almeida. Page nine: tall, coffee complexioned with teeth that flashed iridescent day and night, a ready smile and a willing laugh, wiry muscles and six-pack abs. A Latin lover in the classic mould, with an aroma hinting of spring freshness.The bathroom whispered her name and Grace heeded the call. She rose softly, trying not to wake Gordon, then glided into the en suite, not bothering with the lights. Her hands found the air freshener on a ledge above the bath, its smooth curves hinting of something that Grace wasn’t quite in the mood to contemplate. She pressed the nozzle and breathed in the heady aroma of Mountain Spring Freshness, the scent of Eduardo. She sprayed again, then walked through the miasma of passion builder before returning to her bed. The bedside lamp snapped off, leaving Grace and Eduardo alone … See All Chapters
Medium 9789814625005

INSPECTOR ZHANG AND THE FALLING WOMAN

Stephen Leather Monsoon Books Pte. Ltd. ePub

INSPECTOR ZHANG AND THE FALLING WOMAN

Mrs. Zhang slipped her hand inside her husband’s as they walked together away from the seafood restaurant. “That was a lovely evening,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

Inspector Zhang smiled and gently squeezed her delicate hand. “It isn’t over yet,” he said. “It isn’t every day that I get to celebrate thirty years of marriage to the most wonderful girl in Singapore.”

Mrs. Zhang giggled. “I’ve not been a girl for a long time,” she said.

“You will always be my girl,” said Inspector Zhang.

Mrs. Zhang stopped walking and turned to face him. She put her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the lips. “I will love you until my last breath, and beyond,” she said.

“That’s probably the lobster and the champagne talking,” said Inspector Zhang.

Mrs. Zhang laughed. “It was very good lobster,” she admitted. She released her grip on his neck and slid her hand into his again.

The restaurant that Inspector Zhang had taken his wife to was on a quay overlooking the Singapore River, with cute little tables and candles in old wine bottles and a chef who cooked the best lobster in the city. The chef was known to have a predilection for the ladyboys of Orchard Towers but his culinary skills were such that everyone turned a blind eye to his weakness.

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Medium 9781574415384

Like Falling Down and Laughing

Jessica Hollander University of North Texas Press ePub

Like Falling Down and Laughing

The students in my first class at Stewart Wade High gathered on metal bleachers. In almost-adult clothes, they held leather bags and waxy-bright books; they were skinny but tall. Stretched little kids. The gym smelled of rubber. In Michigan I’d taught Advanced Junior Lit, but here in Chapel Hill, Brant and I were forced to take what jobs were available. I explained that the kids were responsible for locking up their clothes.

“Someone wants my gym shorts, he can have them,” a boy said.

“You’ll have to work out in your underwear,” I told him.

“You’d make us do that?” a girl asked.

“Just watch your stuff.”

Since they hadn’t brought exercise clothes the first day, I had my students walk the perimeter of the room in their socks for twenty minutes. They moved sluggishly. I encouraged them to talk to each other. “Walk and talk!” I ran across the gym, clapping a few times for the different groups, creating energy. I shouted optional subjects each time they completed a lap: “Pets!” “Favorite Games!” “Assets of Education!”

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