20120205

Tiny Skeletons

by Scott Thouard

A micro fiction about the dating life of a man with the face of an artichoke is published online. The web magazine then goes offline, becomes defunct and remains inaccessible. This haven of the hoarded word is beyond my reach. I’m a naive, King Canute type who has tried to second guess swamping digital waves. The disappeared words are now stillborns and their tiny skeletons are vaporous. I miss them.

6S

Scott Thouard prays that Six Sentences remains an undying Juggernaut for writers.

20120204

The Psychology of Labor

by Karyn Eisler

The weight of depression descends on his head. It happens on Mondays. Predictably, he asks himself, Is this my life from now 'til the end? It's his work - not the job itself, but the need to earn a check. It's something he resents. The cast iron burden lifts on the weekends, when he empties trash, scrubs floors, and cleans a week's worth of dishes at home, without getting paid a cent.

6S

Karyn Eisler has recently appeared in The Battered Suitcase, PicFic, and BluePrintReview. She holds a PhD in sociology, teaches at Langara College, and lives in Vancouver, B.C.

20120203

I Will Fill Your Mouth with Cotton

by Caro Harvey Cooper

She was breathing through her mouth again. It still amazed Anna that such a delicate mouth could make such a grating sound when left untended. It turned from beautiful lipsticked source of wisdom and witty remarks to cavernous wind tunnel – the same way a garden could be so peaceful when the sun shone but as soon as the light disappeared only rapists and rabid beasts could be found crunching over the dead and dying leaves. Her mouth became a tool of the devil; it kept Anna awake and was destroying their love. Anna had always wondered what it would be like to slide down a giant cheese grater, how much it would hurt – she believed this was the aural equivalent. She scrunched her fist and punched the pillow right next to the snoring head, half hoping to make contact with her lover's skull.

6S

Caro Harvey Cooper has a second thumb on her left hand, so she's perfectly suited to write (and count) six sentences.