Home Fiction - Year VI - Number 46 - March 2021

Fiction - Year VI - Number 46 - March 2021

    KINGFISH OF LOUISIANA by William R. Stoddart

    0
    Kingfish of Louisiana  The express jet banked low over huge storage vats of crude oil that lined the chocolate brown river. Damian was headed home after twenty-five years. He...

    EDNA by Katie Sweeting

    0
    I didn’t know what to wear. Of all the things to think about on that first morning, I concentrated on clothing. Not too dressy—it wasn’t a party. I wouldn’t wear a clingy...

    THE LIVES OF ANGELS by Mike Lee

    0
    It was one of those nights; the freaky snowstorm that never comes but once a comet’s pass here in this part of Texas. The car breaking down in the back of beyond...

    ALTERATION by Claire Ibarra

    0
    Alteration       With dreams of chasing Richard through dimly lit subway stations and the dark, wooded trails of Central Park, Margaret had a fitful night.  Yet, when she woke...

    SPLIT THE G by Jack Hutchinson

    0
    Split the G Henry sat down at the Auld Shillelagh and made a dismal attempt at splitting the G. The black settled just above the bottom of the harp....

    REMEMBER HAWAII by Mickki Garrity

    0
    Remember Hawaii Thud, thud, thud, thud. The sound reaches through my dreamless sleep and I struggle to open my eyes against the brightness of the windows.

    RETURNING by Audrey Renner

    0
    Returning By Audrey Renner             Felicity examines the halls of The Great’s Garden Museum one last time. Her footsteps echo through the dark, empty museum. She...

    JUNKYARD DOG by Henry Alan Paper

    0
    JUNKYARD DOG             I was fifteen and rabid, roaming the streets of Los Angeles like a wild dog, watching videogames on TV, old boxing matches on YouTube, Tik-Tok and...

    HUNGRY by Liz Shine

    0
    Hungry It’s a typical boring Saturday. Susie woke two hours ago, but is still lying in bed, thinking. She stares at the top-bunk ceiling, breathing the air of her...

    THE FIG TREE by Peter Roxburgh

    0
    Izabela’s earliest memory is of picking fruit from the fig tree that bordered the stream which ran along the bottom of her garden. She was probably four or five years old; it...