THE VEIL OF JUDGMENT by Pauline Duchesneau
THE VEIL OF JUDGMENTby Pauline Duchesneau
The slam of the heavy steel door and the mechanized latching of innumerable locks dropped lead into my gut. I’d tried and failed to prepare for this moment. I...
NO BETTER REASON THAN THIS by Torrie Jay White
NO BETTER REASON THAN THISby Torrie Jay White
The cabin smells like my grandfather as a young man. Like my mother’s skin in her last days. Like the gunpowder in my father’s pistol. Like the...
ALL OF NEPTUNE’S OCEANS by Rina Sclove
ALL OF NEPTUNE’S OCEANSby Rina Sclove
Her hands are the only part of her that isn’t scarred.Everything else is marked, claimed, her skin varying shades of angry red and blistering purple, puckered and dry and...
WHALE BONE by David Massey
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, my favorite place to watch the...
THE LITTLE DOG by Eric Massey
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 the town was called because, well,...
THE WALL BETWEEN US by John C. Weil
THE WALL BETWEEN USby John C. Weil We walked with the wall between us, just as Robert Frost described.We picked up the stones, each of them still cold from the winter.I stopped a moment to...
GOD’S OWN by Samuel Buckley
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 set about the windows and shelves to the forbidden library...
WHAT DID YOU SEE? By Joel Worford
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 first, you don’t see me. Or...
JULIE IN CHICAGO by Eric Lutz
JULIE IN CHICAGOby Eric Lutz
Julie sat on her balcony. It was midday on a Wednesday. She wore khaki shorts, a lime green bikini top, and sunglasses. She drank Tecate and listened to Otis Redding...
GUILT MONOLOGUE by Don Dussault
GUILT MONOLOGUEby Don Dussault
For me everything is in the present tense. Whatever whoever slips away into the past I yank it back. Here something of me thrives. And him. Too much of him. Straight...