SMOKEY THE THERAPY CAT by Andrew Miller
SMOKEY THE THERAPY CATby Andrew Miller Last week Jeff Streeter drove me to the clam flats in his Ford Model T to scatter Patricia’s ashes. We went before sunrise, her favorite time of day. Jeff...
THE ERA OF GOOD FEELINGS by Lawrence Uri
THE ERA OF GOOD FEELINGSLawrence Uri
The Two Americas Barrier began as a metaphor that eclipsed all realities, and became a reality that eclipses all metaphors.Jen is looking ahead, through the windshield, over the plain...
THE PLEASURE OF SPRING AND OTHER STORIES by Leonard Klossner
THE PLEASURE OF SPRING AND OTHER STORIESby Leonard Klossner
The Pleasure of Spring
One wades through currents of prose like one knee-high in the shallows of a stream whose waters flow like whispers in the wind,...
SOMEBODY’S GOING TO TAKE IT by Jon Sorensen
SOMEBODY’S GOING TO TAKE ITby Jon Sorensen
The garage sale ends as it does every year, leaving behind the pine cone lamp, the broken towel rack and the mismatched barbeque tools that will be saved for...
AMORPHOUS by Susie Gharib
AMORPHOUSBy Susie Gharib
ImmersionI always wonder what it is about water that lulls my nerves. Is it the fact that it is forever amorphous and constantly changing colors and hues, mirroring exteriors that are shattered...
NO ONE ELSE WILL WATCH by Marshall Farren
NO ONE ELSE WILL WATCHby Marshal Farren
The Mother sits on a bed inside the smallest of places. The lamp burns on the nightstand. The snow piles outside the window. The baby is asleep, and...
ABANDON by Owen McGrann
ABANDONby Owen McGrann
The light streams through the blinds and floods the room. It awakens me, unbidden – often times before 6 am. The park across the street bleeds its bluster into the house. The dog is up...
LOVE(D) by Sasha Chinnaya
LOVE(D)by Sasha Chinnaya
Night. A stack of blank pages intimidates me. A few empty containers once filled with coffee form a wall on my temporary desk. My mind searches for answers wrapped in a pretty...
I LIVE IN THE CEMETERY by Faye Reddecliff
I LIVE IN THE CEMETERYby Faye Reddecliff
Cemeteries are not scary at night. At least the dead are not what’s scary. They’re peaceful -- the vandals and drunks, now that’s something else.I know because I...
THE LAST LIVING INDIAN by Logan Giese
THE LAST LIVING INDIANby Logan Giese
Tom Hartfield sat at his cubicle in one of many iridescent spiral towers scattered across Manhattan. He felt satisfied with his morning work crunching the daily numbers and took...