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
memories
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
A SIMPLE MIX UP • by Albert N. Katz
A simple mix-up. Harry screwed up and he knew it. Once the scientists had worked out how to identify and extract memories, the techniques were rapidly commercialized by Mnemonics, Inc. His job as a technician there was simple enough, if… Continue Reading
THE LEXICON OF SALTWATER • by Paul Shaw Smith
I used to live in this town. Alone, in a house just over the dunes. Today is the day, and I have made my annual pilgrimage back to the beach. I lie back and close my eyes. My body on… Continue Reading
GRANDMOTHER’S ART • Rachel Barber
The weaverwoman clips bat wings in the forest every night. I’ve heard but never seenmyself until now, how she breaks their bones. Bat skins twirl like kites in the moon’s glow. “Leave the poor thing alone, dear.” I say. The… Continue Reading
TEN YOGURTS AND YOU • by Laura Foulger
I could picture it clearly. I’d hear her squeaky-trainer footsteps on the landing. She’d put her head round my bedroom door. She’d widen her eyes at me — her version of a smile, an ‘I’m-glad-to-see-you, let-me-take-you-in’ sort of gesture. She’d… Continue Reading
A STRANGE REQUEST • by Dan Fuchs
He could hear vague, bubbly rumblings with his ear against her bare belly, her heartbeat a distant drumming. They had both worked up a sweat; it had been some time since they last had some “private time,” as it had… Continue Reading
FOUR STATES • by Simon Paul Jenkins
I. In Edinburgh the bagpipes are for tourists. I’m sorry but it’s true. I don’t mean to be a snob. But in Stirling they’re more genuine. They roll over the floodplains and you never see who’s playing them. You can… Continue Reading
KELLY DREADS THE SNOW • by Ed Kratz
Kelly met Frank on a snowy night in January because Megan kept her late at Patrick’s bar. “Megan, it’s snowing. We need to go.” “Just one more,” Megan pouted like a kid, her lips full and red. By the time… Continue Reading
THE ORCHARD THAT ROOTED US • by Annette L. Brown
“The old orchard was good to us. Nearly 30 years,” my husband sighs. “But the replanted version will be more efficient.” He shoots me a sideways glance, his invitation to ask. “Do tell.” I smile as I angle my eyes… Continue Reading