by Sarah Toney (This story contains suicide.) The air was thin and icy. Breathing it in felt like swallowing shattered glass. The city was beautiful from this height and the boy wanted to reach out and feel the warmth of the setting sun. The heaviness in his chest felt a…
by Jim Kraus Past the line of stones,watch out for the kiawe, its thorns.Then run across the hot sand to the cool water,its soft, long syllable,line after line, vast ridgesof golden sand, each grain now a unit of money.Portable real estate,the beach a mint to be mined and exchanged. Sand…