Waiting for Lorne

By Nate Waggoner,

“You okay?”


“I think you have the same meeting as me.”


“Guy sure takes his time, man.”

“It’s a fuckin’ power move. He tells you to come in one time, he makes you wait three hours. So you can bask in his holy fear.” … Continue reading

Two Lies and Another Lie

By Lucas Southworth,

We linger as long as we can, in bed, in the mornings, on weekends. We’ve been known to be quiet at parties, and it’s true, we prefer the bedroom to bars and restaurants and museums. We prefer each other to a crowd. I’ve counted one hundred and one nights since we first slipped into this bed together. That was the end of winter, blankets piling up, coffee turning to quick sludge on the nightstands. Now, with summer coming, the two of us lay under the sheet, sweating where our knees touch, where the tips of … Continue reading

The Witch’s Daughter

By Lucas Southworth,

The witch found the daughter on her doorstep, in a basket, in a blanket. Much time had passed since she’d buried her cauldron under boxes of ingredients: lodestones and soapstones and millstones, old stones and young ones and flat stones burnished by riverwater. She realized that some of her spells must have lingered, that they didn’t break or dissolve the moment she lost interest. The baby girl, she thought, had to be a sacrifice or amends. She felt the familiar press of evil between her ribs, but no pride, no … Continue reading

A Feral Queen

By John Minichillo,

Sue Ellen knew a healthy fear of dinosaurs and bumblebees. Dinosaurs populated her nightmares, where they turned up in miniature, like squat dogs that bit at her legs with pointed teeth. They foamed at the mouth, hungry for her, and when Sue Ellen’s mother tucked her in and told her to pray, the word she heard was “prey,” and she hoped her limbic system had already fallen asleep, the place her father called the seat of her fears. Dinosaurs weren’t real, she … Continue reading

Adventure XI. The Final Problem

By Arthur Conan Doyle,

It is with a heavy heart that I take up my pen to write these the last words in which I shall ever record the singular gifts by which my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes was distinguished. In an incoherent and, as I deeply feel, an entirely inadequate fashion, I have endeavoured to give some account of my strange experiences in his company from the chance which first brought us together at the period of the “Study in Scarlet,” up to the time of his interference in the … Continue reading

Adventure X. The Naval Treaty

By Arthur Conan Doyle,

The July which immediately succeeded my marriage was made memorable by three cases of interest, in which I had the privilege of being associated with Sherlock Holmes and of studying his methods. I find them recorded in my notes under the headings of “The Adventure of the Second Stain,” “The Adventure of the Naval Treaty,” and “The Adventure of the Tired Captain.” The first of these, however, deals with interest of such importance and implicates so many of the … Continue reading

Adventure IX. The Greek Interpreter

By Arthur Conan Doyle,

During my long and intimate acquaintance with Mr. Sherlock Holmes I had never heard him refer to his relations, and hardly ever to his own early life. This reticence upon his part had increased the somewhat inhuman effect which he produced upon me, until sometimes I found myself regarding him as an isolated phenomenon, a brain without a heart, as deficient in human sympathy as he was pre-eminent in intelligence. His aversion to women and his disinclination to … Continue reading

Adventure VIII. The Resident Patient

By Arthur Conan Doyle,

In glancing over the somewhat incoherent series of Memoirs with which I have endeavoured to illustrate a few of the mental peculiarities of my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I have been struck by the difficulty which I have experienced in picking out examples which shall in every way answer my purpose. For in those cases in which Holmes has performed some tour de force of analytical reasoning, and has demonstrated the value of his peculiar methods of investigation, … Continue reading

Adventure VII. The Crooked Man

By Arthur Conan Doyle,

One summer night, a few months after my marriage, I was seated by my own hearth smoking a last pipe and nodding over a novel, for my day’s work had been an exhausting one. My wife had already gone upstairs, and the sound of the locking of the hall door some time before told me that the servants had also retired. I had risen from my seat and was knocking out the ashes of my pipe when I suddenly heard the clang of the bell.

I looked at the clock. It was a quarter to twelve. This could not be a visitor at so late an hour. A patient, evidently, and … Continue reading

Adventure VI. The Reigate Puzzle

By Arthur Conan Doyle,

It was some time before the health of my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes recovered from the strain caused by his immense exertions in the spring of ‘87. The whole question of the Netherland-Sumatra Company and of the colossal schemes of Baron Maupertuis are too recent in the minds of the public, and are too intimately concerned with politics and finance to be fitting subjects for this series of sketches. They led, however, in an indirect fashion to a singular and complex … Continue reading

Adventure V. The Musgrave Ritual

By Arthur Conan Doyle,

An anomaly which often struck me in the character of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that, although in his methods of thought he was the neatest and most methodical of mankind, and although also he affected a certain quiet primness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the least conventional in that respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in Afghanistan, … Continue reading