Cat 1 by E J Harris

It was Richard found Patricia collapsed on the doorstep.

She looked so peaceful she could have been asleep, but of course she was dead. Richard couldn’t see a breath.

He stood looking down at the prone body for a while and then called his wife from the kitchen.
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No. 168 20170418 | cover: photograph - Dr. Cheryl Spinner

who majored in zoology & decided
they had limbs enough for two, you’d think the freeze
frame would make vapor but no camera here, Shiva’s got
eight arms & a sweet tooth for candy-coated garbage

Slick gray yoga pants with black tiger streaks. Like the stretch marks years of weight fluctuation etched into my legs, arms, belly. They aren’t the kind of pants someone who looks like I should wear in public in the daytime.

black boy walks
the streets of the big easy

the air is cold

Sunken Apple and Honey Cake [Versunkener Apfelkuchen]
Adapted from Gourmeted.com; adapted from the German cookbook
Unser Kockbuch No.1

Liz lowered herself off the sofa with a thud and knelt in front of me. Twisting her fists into the carpet, breathing deep and slow, “If you just say the word,” she said, “I’ll have that dick out of those pants and in my mouth so fast it’ll make your head spin.” It wasn’t so much her words I disliked as the way she said them. Forcefully through clenched teeth. Pitched to be sexy but it reminded me of my parents having a suppressed argument. I thought of the younger me who had often fantasised about offers like this, never dreaming that they could be made to sound so much like a threat. So much like a mugging.