Fiction by Susan Millar DuMars

Girl Without Mercy

My father was a French lumberjack. That’s just a joke. People don’t always know I’m joking. Especially men. They laugh when I’m being serious, then nod or look blank when, well… guess I’m not too good at telling jokes. Now, I know how to act funny. On camera, I mean. In character. From the inside … Read more

A Net Depends On Its Knots

My arse was born before my head. I’m told I shouldn’t remember, but I do.  I recall my skull being stuck in the warm, wet cave that’d been home for nine months; recall, as well, starting the struggle to breathe. With all my infant might I managed to shimmy out backward, so the rest of … Read more

Cassandra Voices
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