Nothing in my life had assured my blood relationships.
Everything looks better from far away. A camera that floats over a polluted sea still brings home serene footage.
Her son’s name was Bison and, wouldn’t you know, she’d enjoyed calling him “Son” for short.
“If you put them in a jar will they wilt overnight?” Junior Lieutenant Volodya asked.
“We want you to write something for our anthology, the Malignant One explained.”
“He wrote a letter about the baby carriage problem to the president.”
“Was this maybe an extremely dodgy situation for me to be in?”
“I ran into my father three years after his death. I was on my way to the library.”
“The reason I am lonely, the amoeba thought, is that I am totally alone. So it had sex with itself and made another amoeba.”
What kind of story would you like to write?
You do not have an account with Catapult. Please make sure you have typed your email address correctly. If you believe this message is in error, please email
Haven't set your password? Login with your associated social account