Storylandia, The Wapshott Journal of Fiction, Issue 4
Three Days Standard Bereavement
“Let’s begin with the website, the one I wanted to start with cocktail recipes as what the new-age types might refer to as a creative outlet. I gave it to King Tim because he worked for the Fat Twins, a couple who never met a buffet they didn’t like, creating websites for small businesses. Perfect match, right?”
Kathryn L. Ramage
“Of all the old gods of the Wood, Heorrot, guardian of the deer, was the most elusive. Seldom glimpsed by mortal eyes, he was said to live at the very heart of the Wood and wandered abroad only at daybreak and dusk. Sometimes he went in the form of a man, sometimes as a mighty, antlered stag, as he watched over his herd and protected them alike from huntsmen and the spawn of Thoteran, master of the wolves.”
“Howard sat on the edge of the pier and watched the rat. Oversized and plump like most in Manhattan, the rodent picked its way along the jagged rocks on the shore about ten feet away. The sight of its sharp little nails and long, skin tail made Howard shudder, but he kept watching. The animal paused and sniffed the air, then continued to where a small pile of papers was wedged in between the boulders. The rat dug its snout into the crack and fished out a piece of torn pink paper. It was a watermelon Tootsie Pop wrapper. Howard suddenly felt nauseous.”
Of the Night
“The moon rules the night, even on a night like this when the moon is new and cannot be seen by the mortal eye. On a night like this one I am drawn toward unthinkably vivid memories of the past. It is a combination of the moon, the ale, and the hunt itself. Right now I am thinking of how I thought back then. I feel what I felt, and for a time I am what I was. I see the hunt as it happened and remember how it was that you were there waiting, even as you are still waiting.”
All the Lonely People
“Miss Wood, the school librarian, liked to read old-fashioned novels and seldom finished one without a tear in her eye. Romance, she knew, would never come her way. She had sharp features and an angular, uninviting body, and she was getting old. I am not pretty, she would tell herself, but I am well read. This is what she imagined she might tell some man some day, jokingly of course, for that was her way: ironic, self-deprecating.”
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Storylandia, Issue 4, The Wapshott Journal of Fiction, ISSN 1947-5349, ISBN 978-0-9825813-5-3, is published at intervals by the Wapshott Press. This work is copyright © 2011 by Storylandia. The Wapshott Journal of Fiction, Los Angeles, California. Copyrights for the individual stories and cover are held by their respective authors and artist and are reprinted here with the author/artist’s permission.
As always, a very big thank you to Kris Anderson for the proofread and editorial support.
Storylandia is always seeking quality original short fiction. Please have a look at our submission guidelines at www.Storylandia.WapshottPress.com or email the editor at editor AT wapshottpress DOT com
Cover: “White Poppy Seeds” by Molly Kiely, www.mollykiely.com
The Wapshott Journal of Fiction
Founded in 2009
Issue 4, Autumn 2011
Edited by Ginger Mayerson
Updated: September 29, 2011