TREASURE HUNTING • by Hayley Diep
I’m not scared of the dark like other kids. Daddy and I used to go treasure hunting in the dark all the time. The two kids who share a room with me always cry at night. I tell them that… Continue Reading
fathers
MAYBE NEXT TIME • by Dmitri Christopher
“Let me guess, education conference?” He has that late Clooney salt and pepper scruff, that skips leg day sort of build. The hotel bar is nearly empty, but he’s still here, cruising. Lucky me. “The glasses gave it away? Who… Continue Reading
THE OTHER • by Shelley K. Davenport
Carina, darling, Someday you will want to know why. People will ask you: What was I like? Was I weird? Forgetting that you were only three and cannot be expected to remember your father. I cannot write to you because… Continue Reading
FAIL • by Kevin Wilson
Just after he had died but just before he was sent back to his body, busted-up and requiring major medical attention, Geoff was allowed to ask God a question. He was not prepared. He kept looking down at his body,… Continue Reading
ALL ABOUT ASSES • by K. Alan Leitch
Really, life is all about our asses. We feed them, and fatten them, then try to slim them down again. We hire Swedes to massage them and lawyers to save them, and we act like them at work so we… Continue Reading
FAMILIAR OBJECTS • by Julie McNeely-Kirwan
He spoke as soon as she reached the kitchen. “You go through the boxes on the table. Kimmie left those for you to get rid of.” “Okay, Papa.” The clean-out had begun. Her mother’s things were being sorted and awarded… Continue Reading
AN ARSENAL OF NAMES • by Deanna Krikorian
The sound of his chewing made her palms sweat. It echoed in her brain. It filled every empty chair around the table, every empty room in their house. He wanted to make her wait, to intimidate her, to show her… Continue Reading
A NEW LEAF • by Frances Silversmith
Marya stared at the whitish-yellow coffee beans in front of her, shoulders hunched. “Try again,” Dad snapped. Marya bit the inside of her lip. She was trying, but her coffee beans stayed stubbornly un-fermented. She’d never be a proper coffee… Continue Reading
BREATH OF FIRE • by Ian Duncan
Hikaru squats on his ankles in the mouth of the furnace. Moisture steams from his body. Sweat distills into salt stains on his shirt. A square of fabric is tied around his head and tucked into a roll in lieu… Continue Reading
MY FATHER’S HOME • by Jo Farrall
On my forty-first birthday, I paddled my way back into my father’s life. It was the last place I wanted to be. I maneuvered my kayak around the peeling fishing boats and patched up houseboats that made up the floating… Continue Reading