HE • by Kyle Ross
He stares at his nude self in the bathroom mirror. He runs his fingers from his neck down his chest and over his breasts. They’re gentle, fragile, moving across his skin as if one wrong touch and he would break.… Continue Reading
family
ROSA • by A. J. Bermudez
My mother-in-law is a riot. Our first time in New York together, she goes to see the landlord about the rapidly fading battery in the automated door lock and comes back with a date. She makes and consumes coffee late… Continue Reading
HATE HEARTS AND SNOWFLAKES • by Claire Schön
Painting the wall seemed like a good idea in early spring. We didn’t exactly have time on our hands, but some had been freed up by not having to commute. As it had become necessary to spend so much time… Continue Reading
ATONEMENT • by Y. Y. Browne
The clouds broke just before her car turned on Seppatin Drive. The Association had forbidden artificial light on the outer property, at the gates to the outside world. So, to the boy in the high window, the car seemed like… Continue Reading
BIG YARD DAYS • by Jennifer Schomburg Kanke
Sissy had grown tired of going up and down the hill. Tired of looking at the green of the Appalachians. Tired of looking at Mr. Dixon across the street on his riding mower with his oh so flat and lovely… Continue Reading
LARRY • by Justin Cox
My older cousin Larry and I sit on the hood of his rust-bitten Caddy, overlooking The Park. We eat greasy burgers as the summer sun slowly melts into the horizon. One day closer to another school year. Everyone in the… Continue Reading
SIN PALABRAS • by Mike Pemberton
Isabella rises at first light, as always. Fifty years in the same house. Seventy years with the same man, now passed. Nine children. Four boys, four girls, living. One boy dead. Drowned. Or was it a fire? “Aye,” she whispers,… Continue Reading
THE PROCESS OF BEING FRIENDS • by Charles C Cole
As an adult with grown children, Bernie found he missed his deceased parents more than ever. He could see his father in his reflection: nose, eyes, and lips. Perhaps in response to the wave of sentiment, he occasionally dreamed at… Continue Reading
ROMANCING THE BIRD • by Zoë Däe
Like I’m supposed to, I show up on the High Holidays and go to grad school and graciously accepted the 18th-birthday nose job from my dad who cares way more than I do that I be available and palatable for… Continue Reading
A WORLD WITHOUT FACES • by Jeff Gard
Behind me, hundreds of papers rustle like the wall is trying to shed its skin. Rain and snow have reduced the pigments on the pages to a neutral gray blob of featureless faces. The names are no more than bleeding… Continue Reading