Words, meet page.

Author: Sanna B

Sanna is a writer, programmer and former artist. She writes autobiographical fiction, featuring parallel universes and fem-bots. Living with her partner in Melbourne and working on a series of sci-fi novels, Sanna often travels to America to spend time with her family, who have officially adopted her imaginary twin brother.


Quiet morning, thought Magnolia, the magpie, overseeing her territory from the balcony of No 22. Her mate Magnus and their son Junior waited for her call, perched on the boundary trees on opposite sides of their territory. Big Human Bird should be over with walnuts. Soon. Sooner would be better. Already Magnolia felt the air seething with tiny breezes made by waking birds. Sunny windless mornings are the idiot-bird weather and she didn’t have time for any of that nonsense.  read more


Midnight. That’s when they leave. Warm in her small black Golf, Laura checked her watch. Eleven thirty. She turned the radio up. ABC RN babbled on. She leaned back in her seat. The moon hung above the gumtrees—yellow tonight, like a welcoming light, the round one above a door to some other suburban life.  read more


Email To: DarkNetVendor112

From: NoneOfYourBees

Required 2 pineapples. Small blast radius.

Delivery Address: <encrypted>

Special delivery instructions: domestic use disguise required

Payment 100 bitcoin linked


Email To: Eltham Ladies Baking Circle

From: Evelyn Drake

For this months bake-off I’m making a very special Sicilian pineapple tart.

Martha I will finally beat your dry passionfruit cheesecake you’ll remember this cake for a long time!!!

Just kidding, I love you dear.



Transcript of Evelyn Drake police interview, DI Michael White conducting.

Present: Evelyn Drake, Luke Drake (grandson of Evelyn)

DI White: Mrs Drake, can you explain how you happened to own a working stun grenade?

Luke Drake: Obviously, it was a mistake.

Evelyn Drake: Grenadine! I ordered Grenadine from the internets. I was going to make a batch of cherry and grenadine velvet cupcakes. I don’t know anything about grenades.

DI White: You threw one in your neighbour’s backyard, Mrs Drake.

Evelyn (emotional): Poor poor Martha.

Luke: Can you get Nan a glass of water please?


Email To: DarkNetVendor112

From: NoneOfYourBees

I asked for pineapple fragmentation grenades. You sent stun grenades. WTF?


Email To: NoneOfYourBees

From: DarkNetVendor112

Bit hard to disguise a pineapple, bro, take what you can. Flashbangs are safer for all involved.

Attached: Tor link to comparative ranges and effectiveness of hand grenades.


Email To: Eltham Ladies Baking Circle

From: Evelyn Drake

Change of plans. Found amazing recipe for cherry and grenadine velvet cupcakes. Grenadine is so much classier than pineapple, don’t you think? It’ll give you a taste explosion you’ll never forget!



Transcript of Evelyn Drake police interview, continued.

DI White: So how exactly did you obtain two functioning stun grenades?

Evelyn: I was looking for special Grenadine, from Turkey. It’s the best. Luke showed me how to buy stuff off the Internets.

Luke: I showed you how to log onto Amazon. You can’t get hand grenades on Amazon, Nan!

Evelyn: Can’t use the Amazon. Can’t read credit card and computer at the same time. Have to change reading glasses to computer glasses and back.

Luke (emotional): One click, Nan!

Evelyn: Didn’t need Amazons. Had this nice man pop-up on a window, talk to me. Funny accent but he understood me. Took my address and everything.

DI White: How did you pay if you couldn’t read your credit card?

Evelyn: They didn’t even ask for my credit card! Exceptional service.

Luke (highly emotional): They must’ve hacked you through the email!


Email To: Eltham Ladies Baking Circle

From: Martha Bachman

Dear all,

I’m all right. The accident in my backyard only destroyed the green bin. I won’t be participating in this months bake off, but I’m sure Mrs Nichols will come up with something special to combat those velvet cupcakes of Mrs Drakes.

Love always,



Transcript of Evelyn Drake police interview, continued.

DI White: Let’s move on. What happened when the package arrived?

Evelyn: They looked like cute little cans. The label said Grenadine. I had my glasses on and read it. It even said microwave and dishwasher safe.

DI White: You previously stated that you gave one of the ‘cans’ to your neighbour, Mrs Bachman. Is that correct?

Evelyn: Yes. I only needed one for my cupcakes.

DI White: Why didn’t you open your ‘can’ first?

Luke (emotional): How can you ask that? She could’ve killed herself!

DI White: I’m sorry, ma’am, but I have to ask. I don’t understand how the grenade ended up in your neighbour’s bin.

Luke: She must’ve thrown it out. Old Martha is a bit ‘out there’, you know?

DI White: The grenade exploded in the bin. Which means the pin was intentionally pulled out.

Evelyn (emotional): Please detective. This is really difficult for me. I wanted to show off. I wanted old Martha to admit I was a better cake maker. So… (highly emotional) I went out into the backyard and I offered her the can of grenadine and she… (highly emotional) she called me names. Not nice names. So I got mad and opened the can to pour it out and then threw it at her.


Email To: Eltham Ladies Baking Circle

From: Mrs Nichols

I will be taking Martha’s place in the competition. Bring it on, Evie!

How’s everyone feeling about Bombe Alaska? Speaking of. Anyone have a chefs torch I could borrow?




Email To: DarkNetVendor112

From: NoneOfYourBees

Required 1 flamethrower.

Special delivery instructions: domestic use disguise required


The Bridge

The author has chosen to keep this piece only for the group. Who knows, maybe it’s going to appear as a book soon. In the meantime, check out some of the other excellent bits of writing floating around here.


He takes my arm, leads me to a chair. “I must talk to you.”

“Yes honey?” I say hopefully.

He makes that face, eyes hooded, features gathered, under control. He sighs, his usual ‘the man’s gotta do what the man’s gotta do’ sigh and says, “The thing is I don’t love you anymore.”

It’s the end of the world.

I look down. The cat is dead on the rug, grey cat on grey rug, and where her stomach should be is an explosion of grey dust. Then the house tilts and the furniture starts sliding down into a dark sinkhole, the cat-shaped pile of grey dust pours after it, and I fall in too, pour in like smoke…

I open my eyes in the darkness of my bedroom. It takes a moment to realise it was a dream, and another uncomfortable moment of sliding between the two realities trying to choose one over another, and I’m not sure which. Because it was a damned dream and—I try to hang on to the last memory of it—before dissolving into smoke I started making plans for surviving. What were they?

But then I have an overwhelming urge to go and hug him.

I run out into the living room, padding barefoot on the cold tiled floor. He’s at his desk, holding his head in his hands. I rush over to him. “What’s wrong honey?”

He points at his monitor dejectedly. A tear slides down his cheek.

I can hear alarm noises even through his noise cancelling headphones. On his large monitor, red text flashes, “You have no chance to survive. Prepare to die.” Behind the broken cockpit glass a star is slowly exploding. Orange flames are licking the edges of the screen as the text changes. “You will be fined one bajillion credits and restart at level 0, at the rank of Harmless. Do you wish to continue?”

I stare mutely as he wipes away his tears.

“You don’t understand, honey. I spent months getting that ship, upgrading it. I levelled up to the rank of Dangerous. I had millions in my account. And now…” He tears his headphones off and throws them on his desk. “It’s the end of the world.”

Now his car had run out of petrol

And now his car has run out of petrol. The engine died peaceful-like; then silence closed in. The godforsaken road made a straight furrow through the silent forest; twilight a permanent fixture of the landscape. He stilled himself for he knew what came next. read more

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