A Challenge

Image Credit: Mandi Z., Phoenix, AZ The author's comments: Based on a picture of a kitten in a blender. Also based on Thor and Loki kittens. I guess... Thor was stuck. He was stuck and he did not like being stuck. His avocado green eyes looked out through the clear glass with longing for the outside. He sat in this place ashamed of how he had gotten into this mess. First he had been lying in the sun all curled up by the front door. The family was gone and he had the whole house to himself. Then he heard a jingle of bells. He lazily rolled his head up to see where the noise came from. His yellow fur and fat stomach covered his view of the rest of the house. He turned over and yawned. When he opened his eyes, he saw him. Loki, the cat of mischief. His blue-black fur was on edge and he hissed as if taunting Thor. Thor couldn’t take this mockery. He jumped up on his four paws and stretched for a moment. If he was to be chasing his brother, he needed to stretch. When he was finished he sauntered into the kitchen. There was Loki sitting in front of the food bowl. ‘A challenge?’ Thor wondered. He began to growl and hiss at his brother who sat stone still. Then Loki leaped into the air and landed on the countertop. Thor followed shortly behind. Thor lunged at Loki and they began to scratch each other. Suddenly Loki went for Thor’s feet. ‘No one dares to touch the feet of Thor!’ Thor internally screamed. He hopped high into the air and then landed in a tight bowl. He stared out at Loki who pushed the lid on the blender cup, which was in the sink. Then Thor watched as Loki went over and ate both of their food for the day. Thor was stuck and he did not like it.


When I first laid my eyes on her, I could not look away. Months later, I feel the same. Charming and delicate, she is absolutely perfect. The only thing I would change about her is the way she shuts her blinds before she sleeps. One day we will be together. Samantha Baltz is employed in … Continue reading SAMANTHA BALTZ: Passion →


“Whipped!” we used to shout, mocking him, all those times he couldn’t join on bar nights. When he could, she’d always call him home early. Those phone calls cracked us up. We made women’s voices, and passionately screamed his name while he shushed us. “Hanged,” police told us one day. David Derey wrote this story.

RAN WALKER: Behind His Back

Shortly after Greg woke to discover his vertebrae had permanently fused with his wife’s while they’d slept, he became curious if she had been complaining to her friends about him behind his back. When she awoke screaming, desperate to pull away from him, he smiled, realizing it didn’t matter anymore. Ran Walker is burrowing himself … Continue reading RAN WALKER: Behind His Back →


“He died in Tanganyika,” she said, pouring herself another chotapeg. “Mauled to death by a lioness. That’s what he called it. Never Tanzania. Native nonsense, he used to say. He’d insulted his bearer, you see. He frequently insulted people. The shotgun the bearer handed him hadn’t been loaded.” Nicolas Ridley lives in London and Bath … Continue reading NICOLAS RIDLEY: Uhuru →

SG: Mild

She’d always been the good girl, the dutiful daughter, even-tempered wife and loving, supportive mother. A woman with endless reservoirs of patience and good intentions, which made her popular with those far from home. She’d folded her passion away in a place no one would ever look. Until that day. SG has a vivid imagination … Continue reading SG: Mild →