by William Heath I remember Aunt Hazel’s two-story wooden farmhouse by the roadside, the flat fields of northwestern Ohio stretching out in all directions until they hit a tree line left on purpose to cut down on the wind. The barns are a short walk from the house, and a rooster commands the area where we…
by Rebecca Watters Cast adrift with only a pistol and a single lead ball—a small mercy for which Horatio ought to be grateful after a failed mutiny. He should have got a real job, but smuggling was more lucrative. Money and adventure—Arthur Gray’s siren song—that’s what lured him from the…
by David Armand Every time he bought a pack of cigarettes— Camel Special Lights, which I don’t even think they make anymore—my friend Nik would peel off the cellophane, open the box, and pull one out; then he’d flip it upside down so that the filtered end was at the bottom of the pack and the…
by Chris Dungey With first light and all through the bitter day, a dandelion lint of snow settles. Each filament gathers dust bunnies loath to press flat those beneath. For the first time in a month, a man stands in a mirror knotting a tie that has no silk-screen Santa monogram or carol button. A neighbor’s dog heralds an approaching…
by Annh Browder I have always hated noise. After the funeral, it seemed like no one ever stopped talking. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” “She would want you to be happy,” and “If you ever need anything, let me know” were only a few of the constant sounds that…
by Mike O’Brien It seemed like a good idea at the time, mixing fish food in with seeds, suet, and lard to make fat balls to hang around the garden. Our feathered friends seemed to thrive on them. So we kept on making more. After a few months we began to notice subtle changes in…
by David Armand Last spring I planted a wisteria tree in the yard with my father. It was the third time we’d met in person, having known one another for only five years. Until then, neither one of us knew the other existed, but I had taken a DNA test on Ancestry and…
by Kamy Callow The chamber was quiet. Soft lights pulsed along the white walls, shifting through gentle colors—rose, sapphire, gold—like the room itself was breathing. Children sat cross-legged on padded circles, perfectly spaced across the polished floor. They were six years old. They had no names—only numbers. 717 sat still,…
by Chris Dungey These ingredients were printed on a crème-colored envelope wedged between toilet tank and wall— an unopened sachet or potpourri. We couldn’t tell, but there were red line sketches—of leaves, sprigs, poinsettia. When for? The Holidays were past—but “Scents of the Season” it read, in English. Still, through February the pouch waited to be poured into an exhausted vase of…
by Kristin Borders Sherrow had been sitting on the gray metal bench half the afternoon, deep in thought, when the moody stranger approached from the corner of Allan and Lamott. The kid was young, late twenties or early thirties maybe, but each step had a slight catch to it—a limp…