June 2018

July 1964

July 1964

She holds a flower, listening only to the small petals. They’ve all come outside to see the purple.
Ten Cents

Ten Cents

Once I saw a man, whose brother had been murdered, sidearm a coin into a fountain.
Transcendence

Transcendence

No difference between night and day when during sleep the world changes. You repeatedly pull yourself out and the crowd pushes you.
Twilight of the Dogs

Twilight of the Dogs

This is the way the world ends, not with a whimper but a growl.
The Northern Lights

The Northern Lights

I never took your last breath; you never saw my first. So when I was young I invented fathers to take your place.
Centerpiece

Centerpiece

The women sit before a turkey, baked for hours, always counting the minutes, tapping feet to a tune.
The Spirit of the Horse

The Spirit of the Horse

There are deep impressions in the grass, tracks from your truck and muddied sod from the vet who “put him down.”
My House

My House

Let me give you my address so that if you are in the neighborhood you can drive by, see if they’ve repainted.
Meeting Mandy

Meeting Mandy

The longer a meeting gets put off, the more daunting it becomes. Try waiting four years.

Upcoming

  • Kids on Division Street
    an essay by Sarah Riccio
  • Guided by Voices
    a story by David Rothman
  • The Lost Works of Pablo Müller-Wessely
    a story by P.J. Blumenthal
  • Irene
    a story by Dave Gregory
  • A Paper Clip
    a story by Siamak Vossoughi
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