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 Jason Spicer A man was shot, in the alley behind my grungy apartment last night, again. His bald pate bounced a stream of pleated light through the blinds on my second story window. No sirens or news crews, just muddy boots and forlorn faces—men who needed sleep, in uniforms…