You need blinds and awnings to escape from the heat!

Not all of us have our very own pool, are a step away from the beach, or have air conditioning in every room. Given this circumstance
having quality blinds and awnings can often be the only respite from the heat.

Sweltering hot days can lead to exhaustion and dehydration and if the only way that you can keep cool is inside your home, than you best make sure that your windows are protected from the harsh sun. Blinds and awnings block the heat from penetrating through your windows, and stop the cool from escaping from your house.

Blinds and awnings are an affordable and stylish way to get through the summer months, especially when you consult with the experts at inDesign blinds click here to view their website.

Thicker Than Blood by PAUL D. BRAZILL

TODAY

‘The thing is, Bren,’ says Craig Hornby, kissing his bloody knuckles, ‘you’ve just got to face facts sometime. You might be a nicer bloke than your Tony. Well, in fact, you are nicer. Much nicer. But your kid is more likeable. It’s just one of those things. And that’s why he always ends up getting what he wants. Getting his own way. If he fell in the sea, he’d come out with a pocket full of fish. That’s him, eh? Teflon Tony.’Craig walks over to the window and closes the blinds. The room turns black. Specks of dust float in a shard of sunlight that slices through a broken slat and spotlights a pool of blood at Bren Murdoch’s feet. Bren’s head pounds. Blood trickles down his nose and is soaked up by the socks stuffed in his mouth .He twists but the fishing wire cuts further into his wrists and ankles. Continue reading

Not For Nothing–Excerpt by STEPHEN GRAHAM JONES

EDITORIAL NOTE:
The following piece is an excerpt from Jones’ novel Not For Nothing, which is set to be published in 2014 by Dzanc Books.

EDITORIAL NOTE:
The following piece is an excerpt from Jones’ novel Not For Nothing, which is set to be published in 2014 by Dzanc Books.* * *

She’ll be waiting for you when you walk back from the water station next door. Because she’s so—because she doesn’t fit, not anywhere in your life, of course you’ll have your thumb in your mouth, will only realize it after you’ve stopped walking, when you’re standing there like some animated character trying to blow his flattened hand back up. All that’s left to do then is smile around your thumb, waggle your fingers before your face in hello, your eyes kind of squinted. Not so much against the glare coming off the storage units both of you are standing in here, but in apology. For being who you are. Continue reading

The Hand of God by edward j rathke

He tasted like ash, called himself Frank, hired me to look for his wife but a man was dead. A curiosity, how a man smiles so with the back of his head gone. Frank, all sweat and shake, vomit stinging his eyes, seized movements making me nervous. I lit a cigarette and gave it to him, but he dropped it, the blood hissed.

Digging through the dead man’s pockets: came empty.

‘I can’t believe you shot him,’ Frank’s voice creaking, worn and dry.

‘It wasn’t an accident.’

He shook his head, wiped his brow. Continue reading

Gateway by RICHARD THOMAS

The sun beats down on the innocent and guilty alike. It isn’t my job to sort them out, or judge them, just to track them down and do what is expected. My three weeks down here in Saint Louis have been spent on the wrong side of the tracks. East side. You don’t stop your car over here at the stoplights, the stop signs, unless you want an earful of lead or a gut relived of its organs. The air is so thick I can chew it and the AC in the foreign bitch I’m driving is turning the driver’s seat into the Mohave with every hot breath she pushes on me. I want a beer and someone to share it with but there’s work to be done today. Rollie. That’s all I know. And an address that leads me across the Mississippi and under the concrete overpasses that deposit me at a gingerbread crack house. Instead of a crackhead Rollie, I get a tall brunette. Out the front door, her legs glistening, her brown hair pulled up tight, micro-shorts and a t-shirt knotted in the front. Exactly my type. I can stay and take care of Rollie, or I can follow her. Continue reading