FIFTIES SCOOP by John Tavares
FIFTIES SCOOPby John Tavares
There are many gaps and holes in the story, but my origins in as few words as possible must necessarily leave some sense of vagueness and incompleteness. Besides, big parts of...
A MILLION MARIAS by Gene Goldfarb
A MILLION MARIASby Gene Goldfarb
Jack lived on a busy tongue of land that pointed out on the Atlantic Ocean east to a European continent. His home turf was filled with people and entities hungry...
LAVE by Todd Dodson
LAVEBy Todd Dodson
It’s gentle at first. You are five and she sets you in the tub still filling with water. Even on her knees she looms over you, already getting to work with the...
DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE by Jeannine Cook
DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDEby Jeannine A. Cook
She was used to the flinching. The fiddling. The mess. The begging. The crying. The blood. These women with their thick thighs and thin thighs and saggy thighs...
ONCE UPON A TIME IN DETROIT by Michael Walker
ONCE UPON A TIME IN DETROITby Michael S. Walker She walked through the massive casino, scanning the heads of the people who sat, oblivious, playing slot machines. It was 2:30 pm on a Wednesday, so...
CAUTION: SLIPPERY WHEN WET by Ivanka Fear
CAUTION: SLIPPERY WHEN WETby Ivanka Fear
"It was an accident waiting to happen," Ivy Rose explained to Detective Reed. “There were just way too many people looking for the perfect spot. And then there was...
ARTFUL DODGE by Joe Giordano
ARTFUL DODGEby Joe Giordano
Maxey’s eyes welled. “Adriana held the shotgun inches from my face. She demanded I kneel.”Nicknamed the Dog of Flatbush, Maxey always attracted the prettier girl when we hung around together as...
THE STORY OF THE OLD MAN ON THE BENCH IN THE PARK
THE STORY OF THE OLD MAN ON THE BENCH IN THE PARKby Harvey James
I've gotta start from the beginning and so I say to him, I’ve gotta explain my dad. Well a few months...
UNCLE JUDGE by Ruth Deming
UNCLE JUDGEby Ruth Deming
What a family we have. Bigger than most. On Sundays, we’d hop into our Mercury Station Wagon – Dad got it for a bargain – so it was pink. It was...
THURSDAY MORNING by Taylor Morrison
THURSDAY MORNINGTaylor Morrison
I knew something wasn't right the moment I walked into Mrs. Knickerbocker's class on Thursday morning. We called her Mrs. N. because of the silent K in her name. She felt it...