September 2013

A Walk by Cloe Axelson

tennis ball in grassy lawn

The first decision they make is whether to turn right or left out the front door. Bodie always wants to go left, to the grassy vacant lot that doubles as a park, but he doesn’t make the decisions.

Ground Walkers by Robert Hanson

smashed cupcakes with colorful wrappers

She’d tried tossing other food, but found cupcakes the most satisfying. Lunch meat was too loud, soup was too messy, cereal was anticlimactic, and sliced bread was too easily carried in the wind.

I Like You by Steven Simoncic

blue gun in arcade game holster

My wife, our two children and I had only driven five hours down I-94, but we were a million miles away from our quixotic blue-state-urban-enclave in Chicago…

Straight Shots of Family by D. Watkins

baltimore seedy-looking street at night

Reds caught a gun charge around the time my deciduous teeth started coming in. My toddler-faced mom­ — pregnant with Deion — clamped on heavy gold bamboo earrings and clubbed every night.

Chapter One: Foraged Love by Alexandra Risen

dandelion seeds blowing off the flower

A plastic bag sat on the top shelf, near the back. It contained large, shiny-white ladies underwear … “Is this a gift for someone, Mom?” I asked. “Oh,” she said. “That’s for my funeral. Make sure you don’t lose it.”