Home Fiction - Year III - Number 17 - October 2018

Fiction - Year III - Number 17 - October 2018

    GRANDMAMA’S FLOWERS by Susan Zurenda

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    GRANDMAMA’S FLOWERSby Susan Beckham Zurenda The day before Grandmama came to get me, I planned how to stow the cat in her car and take him to her house...

    SHRIVELED HEARTS by John Danahy

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    SHRIVELED HEARTSby John Danahy Cassie rounded the bathroom corner, slid under the sheets, and nestled her body against the middle-aged man who’d said his name was Thomas Prow. “It’s...

    WRAPPING THINGS UP RIGHT by Susan Swanson

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    WRAPPING THINGS UP RIGHTby Susan Swanson A little more than a week after surgery I brought Ma home. She was still “Ma” even though Bill, roommate at Yale, had...

    THE UBER DRIVER by Taylor Lovullo

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    THE UBER DRIVERby Taylor Lovullo WASHINGTON, D.C., 2017I remember it starting out like a normal Saturday afternoon. I had nearly finished my studying for the day, so I closed...

    A TWINKLE IN THE NIGHT by Don Himelstein

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    A TWINKLE IN THE NIGHTby Donald Himelstein Stan Waltman was tired. He had driven almost two hours in the cold and wet snow and as he entered the town...

    THE DREAMERS by Fred Miller

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    THE DREAMERSby Fred Miller Middle-aged and solitary in nature, he was one of those odd little characters who appear in the shadows of our lives, in cafes, in bars,...

    HOW THEY MET by Carole Langille

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    HOW THEY METby Carole Glasser Langille He knocks on the door and goes in.  He was told the door would be open.“Rachel,” he calls out. “It’s Henry. Just bringing...

    AT TAFT POINT by Liana Andreasen

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    AT TAFT POINTby Liana Andreasen Bouncing from boulder to boulder and all around the Valley, shrill voices blend with the cries of high-flying birds.By early November, Glacier Point Road...

    VIOLET ABSTRACT by Nya Jackson

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    VIOLET ABSTRACTby Nya Jackson I wasn’t able to bail Violet out of jail the third time she got arrested because she died in police custody. She’d only been in...

    HARMLESS PERVERSION by Donald Zagardo

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    FROM THERE TO HEREby Donald Zagardo My head doesn’t hurt so much anymore, not like it did back in Iraq or where the hell we were. Maybe I’m getting...