Story: James Claffey
Thread of Red Cheesecloth I’d arrived with only the severance money from a crap job, the notes wrapped in an elastic band. The tour guide from the travel agency told me to guard it well, Crete not being the safest of spots. Frost, The Collected Poems, that’s what I was reading. I’d walk out to … Read more
Story: Marc J. Sheehan
The Biennese Jill and I were unloading the car, schlepping our backpacks and bags of groceries into the cabin, when John stopped his pick-up to check us out. He lived in the woods full-time, owned an incongruous brick ranch house at the very end of the two-track that meandered like a river of sand past … Read more
Story: Katie McGinnis
Marcus Marcus was a poet. A man pumped so full of lithium that his arms had swollen into sausages. So fat that I could hardly find his eyes. According to him, to his eyes, the world draped around the sky like a curtain. And who’s to say it doesn’t? That was his point. Marcus was … Read more
Story: Kristina England
Parched Droplets formed on the bedroom window. Carrie leaned against the bed and glanced through watery shapes. The world had morphed into a skewed reflection of itself. She looked in the mirror and rubbed the red blotches under her eyes. The redness spread. She walked into the bathroom, pulled out her concealer, took a pad, … Read more
Story: George Djuric
Life Thereafter And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell, and I understood more than I saw; for I was seeing in a sacred manner the shapes of things in the spirit, and the shape of all shapes as they must live together like one being. ~Black Elk, Holy Man of … Read more
Story: Paul Hadella
Sauce The superintendent at our apartments—this guy named George—lives in a little cottage between Buildings Six and Seven, and he keeps a garden going there, outside his back door. This time of year, he’s got more tomatoes and zucchinis and onions and peppers coming in than he knows what to do with. He’s told mom … Read more
Story: David Burr Gerrard
Banana Rats Detainee was reminded that no one loved, cared or remembered him. He was reminded that he was less than human and that animals had more freedom and love than he does. He was taken outside to see a family of banana rats. The banana rats were moving around freely, playing, eating, showing concern … Read more
Story: Kathleen Coppula
Muffled When the nurse slipped into the room to inject the medicine into my baby Amy’s IV line, I didn’t ask what it was—as if I had abdicated my right to know. She thumbed the plunger slowly, slowly, capped the needle, glanced at the monitor, then allowed herself a brief look of disgust aimed in … Read more
Story: Joe Baumann
All the Times We Fought and Fought We gave her a cake with vanilla icing, pink roses etched in sugary frosting on each corner. The candles, two of them, curved into numbers, one slender, snaky nine, one fat, egg-shaped zero, tiny flames burning on their wicks. Because Grandmother couldn’t lean down far enough to blow … Read more
Story: Kate Greathead
Childhood Bedroom When I conjure it in my mind I see it has walls, furniture, a ceiling, a floor, but after a moment of visualizing all this the contours of the room begin to fray—bed, windows, wallpaper, everything just melts into each other forming a blank, beige canvas which gradually fades to black. Then, there, … Read more
