PRINCESS MOONSHADOW • by Pam Avoledo
Before I reached the toy aisle, the lavender scent of the unicorn called to me. I had to find which one it was and ran to the shelf of ponies. You can have one, mom says and then we have… Continue Reading
Literary
THE LOWEST PLACE ON EARTH FOR REAL • by Dan Tremaglio
The Pentecostal girl spends all night talking to the electric wheel in the sky. The sky turns from black to blue while the wheel spins its yarns of reckless wisdom and the secret curvature of time, telling her to board… Continue Reading
THE PUNXSUTAWNEY PILGRIMAGE • by Lynn M. Rice
Dad insisted on two things when we were growing up: fireworks at the lake for Fourth of July and the slog to Punxsutawney to see good ol’ Phil every February second. Maybe Brendan and I shouldn’t have rolled our eyes… Continue Reading
ALL THAT GOES INTO LEARNING HOW TO LIVE • by Graeme Richmond Mack
“What are you running away from, Pat?” Carolynn asked, smiling, the contours of her face faintly lit by the sun spilling through the coffee shop window. I leaned forward and cupped my coffee mug with both hands. Every time I… Continue Reading
THE SECRET HEARTACHE OF A PRAYING MANTIS • by Läilä Örken
Grey clumps of mould, slowly dissolving into squelchy porridge under the wheels of the tram, are all that’s left to us from the crystalline decadence of the recent snowstorm, the glittering silence of the fields when all sounds were muffled,… Continue Reading
TO FACE A LAKE MONSTER • by Kate Niestrom
It was a disgustingly beautiful day to be plodding across Lake Michigan. There wasn’t a wisp of the somber, angry clouds Lydia had pictured when imagining the first time visiting her son in prison. She squinted at the sun and… Continue Reading
THE LAST CUT IS THE DEEPEST • by Jody padumachitta Goch
John George sat on a log. The Pacific Northwest stretched out before him in all its damp winter wonder; though he yearned to be somewhere else, here he was, stranded by the Department of Justice on this hectare of rain… Continue Reading
BOULDERS CAN DANCE • by Paul Shaw Smith
The boulder had trailed an inexplicably straight and solitary path along the flat, desert floor. It had then travelled a short distance at a right angle, and now appeared to be pointing to a building just visible at the end… Continue Reading
THE ONYX BUFFALO • by Dylan L. Henderson
In 1974, when I was six and my brother, Alex, ten, we lived in a house on the edge of town; the land behind us belonging to a state park, which ran along the Sageeyah River for about a mile… Continue Reading
FISTFUL OF SPIRIT • by Mathieu Parsy
He waits until dusk. The hills blur into a haze of purple. A solemn pull in the air tugs at him while his hands, stiff from cold and years, move over his old mare’s coat. Whispered words tumble out more… Continue Reading