Fhionna Mac

The place she’s moved to is a dump. Plaster lurches from the walls to escape the grip of something sinister. The ceiling fan rips its wires free and dangles horrifically, bent arms reaching out for a saviour. She wishes she could take it back; beg for his forgiveness, festering with a newfound honesty.   She […]

There’s a drop that lasts forever between the bin-house and the moss-covered wall. You’ve seen a girl drop her baby down there, her glass eyes staring, a cracked smile. Sometimes you stand on the wall and shout downwards—weird girl noises—mamamama eeeeewwww heloelllooooo—to see if you get an answer. You bend your bloodied knees till they