LINGERING • by Yvonne Eliot
His lashes are so dark against his skin. Unable to resist, I kiss him gently on his temple. He stirs, swallows, and rolls on his side away from me. I run a hand softly over his shoulder, down his side,… Continue Reading
death
ALLEN’S ASHES • by Bonnie Bostrom
She kept Allen’s ashes in a hexagonally shaped enamel box decorated with a mandala of inlaid mother-of-pearl. The workmanship was splendidly intricate and when light played upon its face the box was lustrous, each diamond piece of the pattern shining… Continue Reading
YOUR BROTHER’S PHONE • by Roberta Kay
You carry his phone in your pocket. Its weight, the closest you have now to holding his hand. Taking it out, you glance through his pictures, read his texts. The phone is still alive. To shut it down would be… Continue Reading
ANNA IS GONE • by Heather Haigh
They tried not to notice my voice was too loud at the funeral. I’m the quiet one.My skirt was too short. I’m the modest one. They admonished me quietly when I got detention but I saw the panic in their… Continue Reading
BREAKING BALL • by Michael Snyder
There’s this ball, pink-seamed and spinning fast, its coordinates locked on the northern perimeter of my left eye socket. All the proof I need that God hates me. No surprise, as my earthly father was never that fond of me… Continue Reading
HOW TO RAISE THE DEAD • by Jeff Gard
In Bensonville, nobody wants to raise the dead anymore, so they leave them on the porch with the rest of the recyclables. Sometimes, the dead are wrapped in quilts or given a few crackers and a bit of water while… Continue Reading
OUR HOUSE ON THE CLIFF • by Lindsey Baker Bower
Our house on the cliff had damp walls that huddled over us as we slept. Ma and Mary shared the bed in the loft while the rest of us kids slept below on pallets we kept behind the stove during… Continue Reading
GRIEVING • by Susan Sabia
The smell of death isn’t death; it’s food. The smell wafts from the kitchen, permeates the hallway, living room, and dining room of the old colonial. It travels up the stairs in whiffs of almost tangible threads into the two… Continue Reading
McGILLIGAN’S • by Justin Klose
There was the completely avoidable car accident that resulted in the death of our friend Jonah, then there was the funeral, followed by the reception at his mom’s townhouse where everyone kept crying and Jonah’s attractive sister Leah went around… Continue Reading
KARMA • by Walter Lacey
Sometimes there’s a moment so quiet right after the exhaled breath when there is no breath, and an interval between two lives is suddenly bridged. My name is William, Wendell or Wallace. I’m not sure which. At this moment, it… Continue Reading