Home Fiction - Year IV - Number 21 - February 2019

Fiction - Year IV - Number 21 - February 2019

    THE LITTLE DOG by Eric Massey

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    THE LITTLE DOGby Eric Massey There once was a little dog.  His name was Rex.  He lived in a small house in a small town.  He didn’t know what...

    CANDID by Michael Trobich

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    CANDIDby Michael Trobich Kate Gibbons likes to take pictures. She doesn’t know how it started, closing shutters and toggling flash, but she loves the way that each photo has...

    WHALE BONE by David Massey

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    WHALE BONEby David Massey The young man accompanied me outside to enjoy the air and sun.  So balmy out here always in July.  We walked slowly toward this swing,...

    KNOCK by Nick Farriella

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    KNOCKby Nick Farriella Esme was a charity care worker or “charity care officer” as she’d like to call it when discussing her job with relatives at family functions. She’d...

    GOD’S OWN by Samuel Buckley

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    GOD'S OWNby Samuel R. Buckley I. Adulthood Nick’s fists thump the counter: come on.His teeth crush his lips: come on.His eyes move from the lurid displays...

    STANDOFF AT THE COUNTRY PRIDE MOTEL, STARRING BILLY FITZ by P. J. ...

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    STANDOFF AT THE COUNTRY PRIDE MOTEL, STARRING BILLY FITZby P. J. Gannon A few hours after spiking some Afghan smack in Room 5 of the Country Pride Motel, Billy...

    FLIPPING THE TORTILLA by Anita Haas

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    FLIPPING THE TORTILLAby Anita Haas “You have lived here in Madrid for twelve years?“ Cheryl eyed Peggy, challenge in her tone. “And married to a Spaniard? You must be...

    WILL I DIE OF HEAT STROKE? By Ruth Deming

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    WILL I DIE OF HEAT STROKE?by Ruth Z. Deming My metallic gray Nissan with its red racing stripe sped confidently into the parking lot of Staples, a seven-minute drive...

    THE KILLING OF AN ARDENT APPRENTICE by Sana Mojdeh

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    WILL I DIE OF HEAT STROKE?by Ruth Z. Deming My metallic gray Nissan with its red racing stripe sped confidently into the parking lot of Staples, a seven-minute drive...

    WHAT DID YOU SEE? By Joel Worford

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    WHAT DID YOU SEE?by Joel Worford It’s eleven P.M. and your hand is on your belt. You don’t see me. There are no streetlights in this neighborhood, so at...