Fiction – Year VIII – Number 60 – August 2023

"What can I do, Joanna?  I want to help."             I turned away from Magda's outstretched arms and averted the hug she had tried to give twice before. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the...

I should’ve been a cowboy. I’d have learned to rope and ride, as the song goes. I’d have lived a life without rules, a life without borders and a life without states or nations, because out...

Early morning.  Crisp autumn of the schoolyard.  Beginning of the school day.  Donna’s father crouches.  Squatting he points.  To guide Donna.  Long high wall.  Blocking October sun.  In front of the wall Donna’s father. ...

When he woke at noon to the sound of buzzing cicadas and fuggy heat, the first thing that came to Lloyd Sherman’s mind was a memory of water. The slip of the canoe into...

Another day, another dollar.  I quickly pushed open double-doors of the hospice care with its name written in baby blue, Apple Chancery font, Angelic Hospice Care.  I race through lobby trying to get to...

The Coffee Conspiracist             The Saturday morning of October 29th was one that would stay in Elbert’s memory until he was an adult, which for a seven year old was saying a lot.             The day...

When the girls decided to have a "bull" session, they really didn't know what it was. They assumed it was where you sat in a circle, and everyone frankly shared her view of the...

The tension was as thick as the mist of the winding mountain road. Mile markers seemed to fly by as quickly as the minutes. A gentle hum from the heater and the beating of...

Cold sweats. Shivering. Convulsions, Jack could not bear it. It was 3:00 in the morning at his Pennsylvania apartment, and he awoke to a spirit looming over him. This figure had distorted features, gazing...

Perhaps her mother had been onto something when she rambled on about why to never trust garage sales. Most people were getting rid of things for a reason, she had said. But it was...