Author

Jasmine Gill

Browsing

The moon glows dimly between the trees, broken to shards between spindly silver branches. Thin shrouds of ice cling to them like skin to flesh; they seem to glow in the dull draughts of moonlight, reflecting a cold light more sinister than it is beautiful. Eliška walks in front of me—the velvety blackness of her cape is a spool of shadow, shrouding her figure in a darkness deeper than the night sky. Her feet, small…

“Matthias.” A man flicked at his match irritatedly. “What?” “Give me a light.” “You still have your pipe?” “Does it bother you?” The man settled deeper into his layer of fur coating. The neck of the match snapped, and he reached into the matchbox to draw another. Thick brown gloves adorned his fingers, so that he fumbled to grasp at the slender sticks. “No.” The tiny hish of the flame grated against the silence, like the hish of wind…

When I turned 15, mine took me to an empty parking lot because I asked her to teach me how to drive. She was the only one in her family who knew how to drive, the only one who wheeled her way out of Stockton, California. There was nowhere to go. All the people were lousy or temporary like seedy hotels. Freeways tore through apartments, deteriorated doorways just homes for the savage teeth of tires.…

After my third month as the 110th president of the United Provinces of North America, I discovered that the worst part of my day would always be climbing out of my bunker in the morning. It has been almost 150 years since Canada was absorbed into the U.S. (after the Alaskan War of 4048), and just more than a century since they moved the Capital to Nebraska and built the underground tunnel system in Lincoln.…

“Clap along if you know what happiness is to you” sang Pharell Williams in his famous song, “Happy”. So, are you clapping? Before I answer that question, the word “happy” has always fascinated me because it is both simple yet complex. When I first think of happiness, I think of a yellow smiley face. But happiness is more than that… right? My childhood definition of a yellow smiley face is challenged every year that I…

The first thing that comes to mind upon hearing the word like is verbal filler. But that’s not the like I’m talking about. Not the like that came from Old English gelic denoting something that has the same form or body of something else. Not the like that was found in Kidnapped or A Clockwork Orange to fill spaces between sentences, not the like in “Valspeak” found in the song Valley Girl (“What Is”). While…

Even at the funeral, he still smelled like our old college dorm: Redbull and instant ramen. His hand slapped against my shoulder and his fingers wriggled around my suit.  “Sorry about the pops, Willie,” he remarked, looking from me down to the steel coffin that rested at the bottom of the hole in front of us. I exhaled, contemplating how he still refused to call me Will and pronounced Willie like “Will-lay.” “Thanks for coming,…

Joe had prepared for most of his life to become a warrior in order to protect his home, the Divine Kingdom of Eternity, led by its Ruler: the Invincible. Stories of great battles hundreds of thousands of years ago became tales passed down for generations—the Invincible, against all types of demons and creatures, erected this Kingdom from scratch and helped protect it from swarms of monsters.  The Invincible requested all minors to dedicate their lives…

…in the doorframe, his wife and daughter gaunt, thin, dead in their chairs, legs brittle after months of sitting. He stood there, staring into their glazed over eyes. He stood there, barrel in his mouth, and ate the bullet. Yum! “Jin Woo! You’re never at home! Why is it always work work and more work every single day! Get out! I’m sick of feeling like a single mother!” At 3 AM in the morning, while…