Fiction – Year VI – Number 49 – June 2021

Back then we lived near the center of town, behind the cavernous library. Mom worked in the orange-carpeted children’s room, which meant during the summers she could keep tabs on us during her break...

As they stood for coffee in the ribcage of the airport terminal, he watched his wife pluck an invisible note from the air and tuck it behind her ear. His tonsils caught a sigh....

The Smiths sat across the small, iron-legged table from one another, and Marilyn’s eyes were heavily focused on the smudged glass topper. She turned her gazed to the partially open sliding door that led...