Fiction – Year VIII – Number 56 – December 2022

I met her just outside the brass-handled doors of Suburban Station, a good walk from 16th and Locust where I came up from below ground to the grey sidewalk on a bright, sunlit early...

Jim Jack couldn’t find it. “Do you know where my phone is?” “Don’t you have a fucking app for that?” she asked back. Eventually, he would locate it himself and walk back out of...

I suspected there was more to Agatha Berlinsky than her coldness and lack of humor. It was 1963, and we didn’t get along. She was a long-term substitute teaching our eighth grade English class....

Lola Hancock was a six-year-old girl with soft, wavy, blonde hair that fell down to her small shoulders. She wore a light pink dress, it was her favorite color. Her favorite food was chocolate,...

Four individuals stand in front of a concrete wall. The wall surrounds a large building. One of the four individuals, a man with pointy ears and a trench coat, looks up and down at...

Are You a Princess? “Are you a princess?” Asked the tiny Indian girl wearing glasses. Her glasses were thick, and her hair was matted like a poorly formed dreadlock. I was taken aback by the clear...

A rush of hot air assaulted me as I opened the door. The familiar ding of the door alarm went off as I crossed the threshold into my new regular spot: the laundromat. My...

Bartira’s favorite aspect of the increasingly rare feasts was the succession of fascinating vestments and adornments that the village women peeled off their foreign captives before gutting and roasting them.   The male “long pigs”,...

Later, after his mother had gone to bed, Cole went and stood at the top of the stairs and looked at his father sitting on the sofa, looking toward the moonlit window. His hair...

“Do you know who this man is?” asked Japanese Consul General Kenzo Oyama of Los Angeles.  He stood in front of the desk of Supervisory Immigration Inspector Takeshi Tsukemoto.             “Hidenori Yamazaki,” said Takeshi.             “He...