by Tracy Lyall Songs of 70s rock stars are fading, with old albums—vinyl records in colorful covers stacked on top of each other, thirty, forty at a time—lying dormant in a thrift-store window display. The roller rink is closed down, wooden floors scratched by skate wheels, molding and mildewing. The…
by Christian Linville When Anna received the wedding invitation from her best friend in late spring, she felt a wave of nostalgia. She recollected Katy’s young, beautiful face. She thought of the stale classes and shared angst of their last days of high school. The elegant calligraphy and formal wording…
by Christian Linville It had been brewing for two days. Some news channels had warned about it, and others just mentioned a light sprinkling. But off the shoreline, out toward the water, you could see it coming for yourself if you looked hard enough—the clouds dark and the lighting flashing….
by Christian Linville Circling above O’Hare in the afternoon sky, the aircraft trembled as it passed through the shifting waves of air. Kara smoothed the wrinkles of her blue skirt, crossing her legs in the dim cabin as the aircraft descended. While she felt the nakedness of her ring finger,…