by Parker Fendler They lay intertwined in the crib, Spencer gnawing on his Binky and Fred flicking his tongue. I’ve no idea how the seven-footer got out again, but ain’t this the cutest thing? I’d snap a shot for Roy, but he’d throw another hissy-fit. A dozen times he’s said…
By Shane Hibdon This story contains substance use. The rain fell steadily, soaking the ground and all things it touched. From inside the RV they could hear the droplets pounding against the roof. It was a steady sound that the television could not drown out, especially for the occasional thunder…
By Beth Escott Newcomer Mary knew there were black widows in the house. This morning, while reaching for a jar of tomatoes, she had seen one in the cupboard and had carefully caught it in a glass with a playing card and carried it outside to the lilac bush, careful…
By Brendan Todt It hasn’t been easy. Bruce is gone—comfortable if not quite happy—living in the Dunes now, with Katie and Katie’s childless hips. You and Mitch are still here. You and Mitch have persevered. Mitch even brought home an A+ in geometry, his first, and you are so very proud of him. And he…
By Steven Huddleston Beep…beep…beep. I heard it in my head like an alarm clock reminding me of what I already knew. It struck me in the chest when the same octave shot out of the speakers. I skipped to the next song. I hadn’t been home in years. I was…
By Janet Zinser Arey Josie had been surprised to see Dale when she cut past the Feeley’s farm after school. He usually hung out by the old gas station riding his dirt bike. Today, he’d been waiting in the shade of the sugar maples. He’d brought her a gift. “Well?”…
By Lindsey Jones I grew up on the trashy side of town. Not necessarily the poor side, though we were that too, but the side where off-duty cops went to party and drunken rednecks used the highway as their personal dragstrip. The kids were dirty, the yards were full of…
By Kevin Broccoli I liked it better when we were on the bookcase. The titles were all lined up in front of us and we could read them aloud to each other every night. We’d come up with stories and attach them to the titles. The stories would produce other…
By Tim Brumbaugh Most people don’t believe me when I tell them that you can hear the snow fall. It’s true. It’s not one of those auditory hallucinations, when your mind convinces you that it heard something that isn’t really there. And it’s not something only I can hear. I’m…
By Michael Cabrera Even in the fall, it always felt like summer at my grandma’s house. Maybe it was just the weather of California, but it felt like her corner of the neighborhood radiated sunlight and warmth. From the shimmering of the concrete that led to the basketball hoop in…