BACK PAYMENTS • by J.R. Gaskin
The shadow of the man standing over me disturbs my sleep. A small weight dropping on my chest wakes me. I look at a plastic shopping bag and then at Frank, scratching his hedge of a brown beard at me… Continue Reading
Literary
WOOD SMOKE AND FROST • by Maggie M. Walcott
She looked up from the warm cup of coffee held between both hands, her gaze following the steam wisps snaking upward, both involuntarily drawn toward and out the parted window. The window itself was old and should have been replaced… Continue Reading
THIS IS WHAT ALWAYS HAPPENS • by Erica Evelyn Simmonds
Every time we get together we cook too much, and then we eat too much. Even though our parents did their best to try and teach us proper table manners, we hunch our backs, put our elbows on the table… Continue Reading
TWO KINDS OF UNCERTAINTY • by Carter Merenstein
Desi leans against the car, struggling to control her breathing. She straightens her airway like the doctor taught her. Breathe in, breathe in again, then breathe out. She closes the trunk of her father’s station wagon and cranks the cold… Continue Reading
ENZO IS RECEIVING • by Suzanne Cushman
Enzo saw something in the creek the rest of us didn’t. He knew every bend and shoreline eddy. He could pinpoint the high and low spots with his eyes closed and draw a topographical map of the creek’s floor from… Continue Reading
HASENPFEFFER • by Peter Wood
“Hasenpfeffer,” Cecil said. No sign of a break in the weather. Just gray skies and drizzle to the horizon on the interstate. “Shit,” his wife said in the passenger seat. “I was doing voice to text. I have to start… Continue Reading
BRITTLE • by Elaine Mead
I watched her as much as she pretended not to watch me. My little sister. Wasn’t the youngest the baby? Wasn’t she supposed to be subject to our parents’ worries? Their touches of melancholy? I remember when she would beg… Continue Reading
FOURTH OF JULY • by Emily Clemente
We are hungry, so hungry we could eat the whole world. Everything smells like ketchup. We could eat the trees, we could eat the sun. The glass lights on the deck twinkle like little candy stars, and we could eat… Continue Reading
THE BETTER PART OF VALOR • by Tad Tuleja
He had been cut this bad once before. In the Central Highlands, a punji stick had jabbed him below the knee. It had gone in less than an inch, but the feces that the VC had smeared on it had… Continue Reading
WHAT COMES AROUND • by Avery Mathers
Garry switched off the engine and looked towards the house. He’d hoped that Bea would be out for her run so that he could jump straight into the shower, but the lights were on. He sniffed his shirt for any… Continue Reading