Fiction - Year III - Number 18 - November 2018

THE HITCHHIKERBy Joseph Washburn I sat it in the passenger seat of the pickup, the August heat already making the outside unbearable. Slowly, I slid my hand under my coat, touching the cold steel of...

DUSTBy Maggie Slepian I was at a stoplight, the one that never seems to be green no matter which direction you come from. It was the part of town where the radio comes in clear,...

SOLO ACTBy Malcolm Garcia She holds a yellow feather.--Do you know anything about birds? she asks.He shakes his head, no, and moves over to make room for her on a bench in the bus shelter...

LAST NIGHTBy Cassie Lawson “Do you want to get high tonight?”I nearly dropped the receiver and choked on my Dorritos. “Wha- wait. What?”“I can come pick you up in like half an hour. What are...

A ROOM FOR TWOBy Cristina Oramas Sweat made her tight white dress cling to her curvy figure. “Why do you always make me meet you in such dingy motels?” asked Rose. The bed had a...

APPOINTMENT IN ZANESVILLEBy Don Dussault Bustling more than usual this morning, Thelma sets the omelet platter down hard before me and deftly slides an omelet into my plate, then one into hers, without looking at...

UNDER THE FLOORS OF CHURCHESBy Libby Copa She had not wanted him to come with her to the wedding in the first place. That morning as Maren lay naked from the waist up and in...

QUEEN'S GAMBITBy Lazar Trubman “I’m not particularly against telemarketers, but if they could only use a little more improvisation,” says Bill Stubbs setting out the chessmen for our usual Friday game. “It makes me feel...

A GIRL DIED HEREBy Kyle Labe The cross is white. Her portrait embellishes the center, as if she’s crucified. As if she died so we can live. It’s on the side of the road, near...

HIS HOMEBy Effy Rose It’s the house I grew up in, but everything’s different. Forty years ago, I left it to care for itself, and I suppose it has. It’s still standing. Under a blanket...