by Betty Stanton Hands smelled of smoke long before the match was struck. We stacked the wood too high, and it swayed with the weight of grief. The fire took its time choosing which bones to touch. Ash gathered in our throats, and we swallowed without protest. Someone said the word sacrifice, but it tasted…
by Betty Stanton Hands smelled of smoke long before the match was struck. We stacked the wood too high, and it swayed with the weight of grief. The fire took its time choosing which bones to touch. Ash gathered in our throats, and we swallowed without protest. Someone said the word sacrifice, but it tasted…
by Michael Theroux Cutter Bill had all his fingers and was proud of it. Most loggers, especially “cutters” who reached the ripe old age of 60 or so like Bill, had left various body parts scattered amongst the logging slash, accidents many loggers didn’t walk away from. Not Bill. Nope. He had plenty of close calls,…
by Emily Brochu The Siren’s Song They say the sea remembers. Every secret whispered into her waves, every cry lost to her depths, she keeps. And so she remembers Lyra. Cast Overboard It was Roger who dragged her from the shadows of the lower deck. His hand was a vise on her wrist,…
by Shaun O. Ceallaigh Albert Clark shuffled along the empty church’s central aisle, countering the weight of the oxygen tank on his back with his walking stick. He stopped beside a pew and placed another printout of the Miracle Prayer on the bench. Once he had distributed all ten copies…
by Tony Moreira Time didn’t pass in the attic. It curled, coiled, and even lashed out. It also maintained a dark silence that remembered everything. Filled with timeless dust and shadows, the air carried the awful scent of dread from the years that passed. A single window in the room…
by Jeffrey Ronay Forty-year-old Tom Riley climbed into his spacesuit and dialed the helmet ring to the external setting. Angie, the Suit’s reassuring voice, confirmed, “Suit pressure is nominal—internal temperature set to seventy-one degrees.” A smile flashed on his weathered skin, tiny lines drawn from too much exposure to the…
by Johnathon Hannon I push the door open. The clang makes my chest seize, like a spotlight just hit me. The bar reeks of stale beer, sweat, and old regrets, tables sticky with history, booths crusted with secrets no one bothered to clean. People stumble, shout, grind, laugh too loud,…
by Kevin B We’d go out around one. Climbing through bedroom windows, we’d try to land softly on bushes and backyard lawns. Some of us went barefoot. Some hid a spare pair of sneakers under porches or tucked under tarps used for covering patio furniture. Some of us just liked…
by Claude Chabot The people know. I have to be careful—they listen, they hear . . . . . . and I’m afraid for the little girl. And Charlie. They keep me here, but I flee often only to return. Their voices guide me—but they are wicked guides, hateful voices,…
by D.S. Stewart As the cancer worms through his body, Simon Weinberg prays the same prayer he’s made hundreds of times, kneeling, arms outstretched, staring upwards into space: “God, if you happen to be there, grant me the chance to explore your handiwork.” He figures he’s doing God a favor….