Goodbye, Fairyland by B. E. Smith
He met his neighbor in the driveway to explain the flashing lights and police officers across the street. With a wry smile he relayed the shooting that occurred before they took the man away. It was...
View ArticleForeigner by Ken Head
At this time of year the tour buses arrive early, while it’s still cool. Today, the first are there before he’s finished his coffee, before the street-cleaners have swept and hosed the pavement in...
View ArticleAmong the Snowdrops by Lori Schafer
Gretchen shuddered as the train edged noisily away; tried and failed to forget where it had come from, where it was going. Hard-hitting snowflakes assailed her hair and cap, dotting her form with bits...
View ArticleCoded Thoughts by Mikkel Snyder
She’s¹ my best friend’s² girl.³ 1. I want to tap out in Morse code on her skin all the things I’d do to her if I could. 2. He doesn’t deserve her. He never did. 3. The code that strips her of her...
View ArticleCover Letter by Wayne Cresser
Martin B. Crisp 22 Sparrow Lane Nutley, New Jersey 07110 May 1, 2014 Sally Amen Director of Advancement Handel University 84 Erie Avenue Passaic, New Jersey 07055 Dear Selection Committee, I know...
View ArticleFaith Litmus Test by B. E. Smith
Once started, the university professor yielded the floor to debate. Students in Philosophy 101 voiced pros and cons up and down the lecture hall—back and forth across the rows, before settling in the...
View ArticleBalancing Act by Ray Carns
Her name was Mary, her mother said, like the Virgin, which Mary always hated. Not the Virgin. The reminder her mother felt compelled to say to keep Mary on the right path, although they weren’t...
View ArticlePower Hungry by Ken Schweda
We met in the coffee shop and exchanged only a few words. Neither of us took cream and sugar. There seemed to be a connection. So when Martin invited me over for dinner I agreed. To be honest, he was...
View ArticleSIMSEX by Niko Osobito
SIMSEX is a sex simulator that can be programmed to offer any sort of virtual sexual experience with the touch of a screen. Recently, a scandal erupted when anonymized customer data indicated that...
View ArticleThe Leaver by Scarlett McCarthy
My knowing is granted in shades. The first is me dressed as a schoolgirl Britney Spears taking shots of vodka off our wooden dorm dressers. The second is browned out: me drunk and seated on a folding...
View ArticleShelter by Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz
Estelle was stabbed 26 times. That’s why her death made the front page though it wasn’t the headline story. Peggy, the shelter manager, called before the morning paper was delivered with instructions...
View ArticleOcean View by Lori Schafer
She rocks, the antiquated chair creaking quietly against the worn wood of the porch. The sun blazes high overhead and she pauses; bends to steal a sip of lemonade, pink from the pitcher on the table...
View ArticleBirds, Bees, and Girls in Trees by B. E. Smith
A friend read my course load for spring semester, shaking his head at one of the class titles. “Women in Literature?” he asked. “You’ll never get laid in that class.” I had learned to step away from...
View ArticleStone Against Bronze by Louis Abbey
Early on a chilly, gray morning in November 1941, Henry Miller, bored from his drive across the country, stopped for breakfast at Eudora Welty’s home in Jackson, Mississippi. Knowing him only from...
View ArticleTwo Pairs of Pants by Ron Singer
1976: We came, hurly-burly, from Maine to Chicago that hot summer, for my dissertation defense. Staying at the studio of my wife’s painter-friend, I hung my best pants (black Lee Riders) on an easel,...
View ArticleTerrible Shoes by Katherine Gleason
On the Left Bank, surrounded by new classmates, white-footed terrier at my knee, I press close to the café table. The cold marble nips my palms. Foamy beverages arrive. I lean down, sip, recoil—too...
View ArticleThe Cup by Ken Poyner
The child sleeps numbly, but she still rocks it randomly, its head rolling now and again out of the bowl of her arm and then attentively pulling itself back onto the pillow of its own chest. She...
View ArticleLiving by Daniel Wilmoth
I was strapped to the feeding chair by my legs, my arms, and my head. The chair was one of six in a room with concrete walls and barred windows. The other five were empty. My eyes still watered from...
View ArticleAnother Pageful of Words by B. E. Smith
Thinking of Ben Franklin, the young printer smiles walking into work late again. Nodding to himself in bemused assurance, he considers the tenure of Mark Twain; he ponders the constant flux of moveable...
View ArticleThree Sides to Everything by Ray Carns
RON’S SIDE Ron knew what was coming. He knew that look, that walk, the way Leila’s legs moved, arms swung, hair swished from side-to-side. There was nowhere to go to escape the anger that hurtled...
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