The top 10 lies authors tell themselves
Looks like Pablo Neruda was poisoned
HarperCollins union ratifies new contract
State of the strike at HarperCollins
Amazon is changing its ebook return policy
It’s the school’s loss, not Emma’s
White Chrysanthemums
by Lori Nevole
My first girlfriend was Catholic, and thought no one would know she was a lesbian if she kept up a great manicure.
Hollows
by Tommy Dean
We’re lying in the middle of a cracked country road, fireflies blinking a message we’re too human to understand.
A Tragedy, A Process, An Adjustment
by Betsy Porter
She would be devastated if something happened to him—a car accident, for example, it’s entirely possible.
Aim
by Rebecca Foust
If Pastor Dale’s deer-stand was built as a place from which to squeeze a hair trigger, it also ladled up a grand view of the valley below, thick with hickory, sycamore, and elm.
Living With Lies
by Gita M. Smith
Whenever someone asks me, “So, what do you do?” I like to say, “I am a crash test dummy tech for the National Highway Traffic Safety folks.”
Clemency
by Cady Vishniac
A dead ringer for Josey. She sneezes as she walks into the pharmacy, and I look up from the newspaper I’m not supposed to be reading.
Rocket Night
by Alexander Weinstein
It was Rocket Night at our daughter’s elementary school, the night when parents, students, and administrators gather to place the least-liked child in a rocket and shoot him into the stars.
Dragging Raven Lake
by Kevin Couture
The men waited on the shore while Susan, (whose son they searched for), made coffee on the tailgate of a half-ton.
Superman
by Emile DeWeaver
A mother-of-pearl mirror-stand, rolled rugs from Damascus, and other brick-a-brac from when I went through my I’m-gay-but-proud-to-be-Syrian bullshit fill the shadows in my garage.
Orbiting, Day 271
by Bradley Potts
“There is a 2.43% probability of survival. How would you like to proceed, Jay?” Blue Jay, flutter and fly, away from the crows. That gloating, hateful blue engulfs my tiny window.
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:
Other Places, Other Times
by Robert Wexelblatt
Open Contests
Lascaux Vol 9
by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review
