“The Police are coming to the Omni!” Addison shouted across the campus quadrangle in early October of 1983.

One stormy night, as I tried to sleep, The scary monsters began to creep.

Our college reunions were usually boisterous affairs, but this one was subdued. Subdued, that is until the cocktails soaked in.

Fifteen minutes to the deadline. Fifteen minutes to write the words that would end the career of a man who had once saved his life...

It wasn’t fury that vitalised Hannah, it was loss, grief even – though heaven knows she shouldn’t be the one grieving. But she couldn’t bear him just carrying on without her.

When Yoana Hernandez decided to become a psychiatrist she never imagined one day her patients would be artificial intelligence.

Beth wore her favorite pink smock. It had bottomless pockets perfect for carrying important things like handfuls of rubber bands, marbles the color of oceans, a red shoelace, a spoon, and two troops of plastic soldiers- one blue and one green.

Here in Saint Lizard, the one road starts on the cliff by the lighthouse and crawls in circles down to the sea. We have enough town to justify a strange-shaped road, but not enough to justify two roads.

Where am I? She wonders. None of the details of the room feel familiar. She gets up. Slowly. It feels like her body is bound; it is almost suffocating. Why do I ache so much?

Nothing is as visceral as holding a handful of human ash. I resist the impulse to sift it between my fingers as I walk. Everyone, from the mourners to the pastor, are far away and yet too close.

Saturday. Ged’s day. Best day of the week. When Jean usually pops over to see her sister. If I play my cards right we’ll hardly see each other till tomorrow.

The end of the world tends to have a negative impact on the motivation to complete one’s daily chores.

“Jonah, are you with us?” Ms. Turner calls, her voice strained despite herself. She knows how hard it is for me. I know she’s trying. I know I’ve disappointed her. Again.

“She’s in the mirror.” The man sitting in front of Detective West quavered. The whiskey on his breath danced around the room, leaving an unpleasant odor that disturbed the Detective.

Why was he still Pilt the Scrummie and not Pilt the Bosun? Most days, he would have settled for just being Pilt the Sailor.