OUR FATHER by Jesus Francisco Sierra
OUR FATHER
Our Father…
It’s time to ring the church bells. I’m waiting for my turn and I’m starting to get nervous. I’ve been coming up with excuses not to climb up the tower. It’s gloomy,...
LIGHT by Sandra M. Perez
She couldn’t remember the last time she stood in the light. “Always look for the light,” he told her. “The pool of light is here, where you dance your solo.” His eyes reflected magic...
UNLEARN by Francis Duffy
Of course, gender reassignment wasn’t available then. Not that I was unhappy with having been born male. Rather, it was the latter half of the nature-versus-nurture dichotomy that vexed me.
My abnormality surfaced early.
I’d ridden...
CLOSURE by Jonathan L. Shaffer
The elevator door opened. It was thoroughly unremarkable, as many apartment elevators would be.
A red pleather jacket over a gray hoodie entered, eyes glued to his phone. “Can you push two for me?” he...
THE BEST FUCK IN LAUREL CANYON by Alex Pugsley
She has four days left on the movie, scattered over the next twelve days, and then a three-week gap in her schedule her agent wants her to fill. But she’s exhausted. It’s Friday evening,...
DEAD ENDS by Jack Cimino
Dead Ends
After Joey had been shot, time seemed to move quicker. It was an especially humid night in Long Beach. I was sitting in the parking lot of the laundromat on Park Ave. I...
THE WITCH by Zachary LaFever
It was the day of my mother's funeral. It was raining that day. The rain and wind combined and smashed along the church's windows. It sounded like a baseball bat whacking into a steel...
SCREAMING INTO THE WELL by Douglas Cole
Screaming into the Well
As jones steered his way through the palm fronds of a few ideas that wanted to surface but kept diving back down again into the undertow of his brain, appearing just...
THE BUSINESS OF SHELLS by Craig Dobson
The Business of Shells
I sold seashells by the seashore. The same shore where they could be picked up for free. Except for holiday makers, though, or those with time on their hands – lonely...
I LOVE YOU LIKE BROKEN GLASS by Frances Wiedenhoeft
How many times had I scrubbed until my fingertips were raw and blood trickled into the wash water? Any witness to this stooped washerwoman would have seen the emotional precipice I teetered on.
First,...