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 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….
by Elizabeth Wischler Thomas Ray hadn’t touched the box since it arrived. It lived under his bed, where dust settled without judgment. He didn’t talk about the war, not in church, not over coffee. Not when his wife asked why he woke up gasping. The medal came three years late….
by Mark Crimmins Davis called him at the beginning of the month to tell him the bad news. “You’re not gonna like this any more than I do, Schultz, but Prez has decided we all need to ask a hundred golden questions a week from now on. I know the…
by Chris Cottom As the motorcar crunches across the driveway of Tauntfield House, my sister, Edith, explains that the maids and our few remaining male servants are lined up on the left, with our parents at the door. She instructs me to take her arm, which I do as far…
by Charly Murmann Did I fall for you? I think I may have loved you. Maybe I did. Or maybe I loved the idea of falling in love with you. I fell in love with you. I loved your name: not common, chosen, and mysterious—Attic. I never asked you how…
by Lucy Carr I dreamt of the red and yellow wool blanket that my wife, Evelyne, brought back from Morocco. She had purchased it in Tangier just before crossing the Straits of Gibraltar by ferry. I reached down to my calves to pull it across my body, my arms trembling…