INK NIGHT • by Devin Miller
Sip. I ingest a single swallow and hold on. Bruno says I’ll feel the effects in a few minutes—our flasks will be nice and secure in our coat pockets. Mine’s a thin jacket on a cold night, but ink warms… Continue Reading
Month: September 2015
PINKIES & CLAY • by Jennifer Todhunter
Leon’s pinky wraps around my pinky underneath the desk. Our hands hang linked in the gap between our laps; his warm, mine cold. Facing forward, I wonder if he’s looking at me. Wonder what sort of eyes go with his… Continue Reading
THE SHAMING OF CONRAD 25 • by Dale Carothers
When his mother opened the door, Conrad didn’t know whether he should close his laptop or cover his lap with the blanket, so he did half of each. “Can’t you knock?” “I’m your mother, I don’t have to knock.” She… Continue Reading
REDISCOVERING HAPPINESS • by Jessica Marie Baumgartner
My memories of her are my earliest. She was the kind of mother you hear about in stories, ever patient. She made my father happy and he adored her. My sister and I were allowed to jump on the bed,… Continue Reading
THE VALUE OF LIFE • by Jason Thomas
Progress bars. All day long, Brett Westley stared at progress bars. Sure, he did some programming too, but each code change meant re-compiling. That meant watching those bars and waiting for them to change color. Green if a project compiled… Continue Reading
SENSES • by Desiree Wilkins
She’d rather it was a tumor. Rachel drove her hands deep into the cool meat. When she squeezed her hands tight, she felt the soft thickness work through and surround her fingers. She set one hand free and cracked an… Continue Reading
LONG AND GRACEFUL • by Michael P. Boettcher Jr.
Trey looked out the windshield and saw a deserted boat ramp. He was confused as to why his mother had driven them here instead of to swim class. Trey wouldn’t have minded really, Violet was the one who loved to… Continue Reading
BEFORE DAWN • by Laura Alexandra Hunter
This is the part of my job I love the most, waking up before dawn to conduct routine maintenance on the flags that fly on top of the Auckland Harbour Bridge. This morning the skyline is like a picture my… Continue Reading
THE CONJURINGS OF JESSICA WRIGHT • by Dustin Adams
Mother and I are allowed to visit Grandmother because her magical conjurings increase when we’re around. I wonder if she knows her reality is a lie, that she’s a prisoner, sequestered away in an underground bunker. She may not, considering… Continue Reading
PERCY’S CROSSING • by Elizabeth Archer
Sir Percival Pettigrew saw things other men did not see until it was too late. “I should have named you Cassandra,” said Lady Pettigrew. “Pity you were male.” Only his mother understood him. Sadly, she died in a hunting accident,… Continue Reading