by Sean Beaudoin
My room is tiny and dark and smells like sweaty sheets. The window is wide open, but there’s still no air. A heavy pre-lightning gloom overwhelms my clankity-clank fan.
by Kenneth Robbins
Where: the ninth floor of the Ritz Building, downtown in a median American city on the Southern side of the Mason Dixon Line, a city like Jacksonville, Savannah, or Montgomery, or none of them, or all of them.
by Dino Parenti
He’d pick me up from Mama’s early Saturday while she slept, always waiting in his truck down the street and staring down the sun while gnashing on a spicebush twig.
by Midge Raymond
We’re having the same argument before my sister and her kids come over for a barbecue. I’m running out of reasons he hasn’t heard before, so I tell him, “This morning I saw a woman at Stop & Shop with a bullet on her key chain.”
by Raymond Philip Asaph
A social researcher, she had actually been affiliated with Harvard University, part of the team which had issued an important, ignored report on the mental health of the American people.
by Kathy Fish
Their mother works hard, but the girls are unkempt and secretive, given to a layered, sarcastic wit.
by Anna Mantzaris
Shiitake Happens. Soy to the World. The Girl From Echinacea. The slogans were printed on heavy hemp T-shirts with vegetable dyes.
by David Jauss
It was March before anyone noticed. The first was Merlene Svensgard, whose husband Al had died on New Year’s Eve while he and Merlene were counting down the final seconds along with Dick Clark on TV.
by Robin Becker
I’m a line-sit for the Ultimate Roller Coaster. At first, I thought the job would be depressing, everyone standing in line waiting to ride-n-die, but what I do is altruistic.
by Davin Malasarn
She told him to lie on the floor. His father lit tall, yellow candles and placed them in cups of sand on the shrine. They covered him in a tablecloth that his aunt crocheted herself.