Letter to My Coroner
by Christina Litchfield
We meet on a Monday. You hate Mondays because the weekend means car accidents and those are often tricky and unpleasant.
The Wild Plums are Blooming
by Mark Schimmoeller
The wild plums are blooming. They have bloomed every April since the man moved into the woods.
Paper Saints
by Tommy Dean
I might as well admit that I’m sinking. You know the joke about lifeguards drowning? Rip currents don’t care who they plunge to the bottom.
Museum of Grand Gestures
by Danielle Claro
Employing every classic device in the Grand Gesture toolkit, this work is a stellar model for students of the form.
Career Change
by Lisa K. Buchanan
The mortician arrived last night, well before the viewing, to paint our little girl pretty.
Some Things You’ll Do When You Would Rather Be Happy
by Laurie Marshall
You’ll check the mailbox one last time in case the whole thing was a sick joke.
Crystal Pigs
by Allison Brice
I took my breakup quietly, like a pitiful February rain with no lightning.
The Company of Shallow Holes
by Dino Parenti
One unremarkable March day, a man began puncturing random holes in his withered pasture with a post-hole digger.
There, I Said It
by Tori Malcangio
In the dark, from my twin bed, I listen to Romy and her latest visitor in the sheets.
Crashing
by Alle C. Hall
She was eight and at the beach and she felt like a movie star.
It all began around a campfire…
Beautiful language
is meant to be heard as well as read, and in fact words were vocalized eons before they were ever committed to clay or parchment. Storytelling began around campfires. We seek prose and poetry that continue the tradition.
Contributor Spotlight:
Love and Hot Chicken
by Mary Liza Hartong
Open Contests
by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review