The scar was like someone had been in a hurry to get a scoop of ice cream out of the container, like those high school kids who worked behind the counter at Graeter’s on a busy August afternoon…
Scar by Peter Stavros
Johnny Quits by Rachael Marks
You’ve found a job in a liquor store. This is your vocation, now: selling half-pints of budget vodka to the neighborhood end-of-the-liners…
Movies in the Cemetery by JT Siems
It is twilight and a misty fog dances between the bars of the foreboding wrought iron gate. The movie starts in ten minutes…
Doppelganger by Paula Freed
Loehmann’s fitting room was unusually crowded. No matter where I stood in this large mirrored space, once a discount designer paradise, reflections of female flesh surrounded me.
Re-envisioning Daydreams by Erik Dane
Ahead of us, trance music is abloom on a stage fronted by revelers pulsing, swaying, embracing, and, in some cases, sleeping.
4/20 by Scott Loring Sanders
Something horrible doesn’t happen every year, but the number of personal occurrences and international news events is haunting.
Craft: Bone Heap — On Returning to One’s Own Work by Donna Steiner
Any writer who has been at it for a while knows what throwaways are, although you might have another name for them. Exercises, warm-ups, unfinished pieces, maybe the ever-optimistic “works in progress.”
Sand Dollars by Wendy Fontaine
My daughter would rather scoop mud than look for shells. She has my eyes and my smile but she is not the child I was when I was five years old.
Measuring Up by Aileen Hunt
My father knew his clients’ bodies intimately. He knew whose shoulders sloped, who had one leg longer than the other, and whose neck was disproportionately large.
Palestines by Alison B. Hart
We’re all on the A train to Brooklyn. The disturbed man is telling us, too loudly, that he spent time in a Puerto-Rican prison.
