by Michael C. Keith If you were color blind, you’d be a better person. Robert Smith It seemed to me that we’d been standing on the blazing stretch of Route 1 south of Savannah half of my 12 years on the planet. “My legs are getting rubbery from being here…
by Kate McCorkle We are in the prescription drop-off line at CVS, which, after 6 p.m. on a weekday, is several people deep. My eight-year-old, Lizzie, has a severe ear infection. She is stoic and in extreme pain. The mean pharmacist is behind the counter. I once left the line…
by Michael C. Keith For some offenses, there is only retribution. – Dennis R. Miller Quinn Myer woke up in the middle of the night to relieve himself, but…
by Tammye Huf “Did you burn your mouth?” “What? No.” My hand flew instinctively to grope at my mouth, searching for my injury. “You’ve got a white spot right there.” Kevin bent in and gently kissed the corner of my mouth. It didn’t hurt, my burn, so I kissed him…
by Amber Box Death. On the side of the road. It’s always how I imagined it to be though, dramatic and alone. No one stopping to call an ambulance, no one stopping to close my eyes. Just me in a chair and the rush of cars barreling down the highway…
by Michael C. Keith There is something about poverty that smells like death. Dead dreams dropping off the heart like leaves in the dry season and rotting around the feet. …
By Stephen Monaco Dawn tapped her fingers impatiently on the table, trying to tune out the chaos that reigned on the other side of the sprawling glass windows, PLAY PLACE emblazoned across them. Every scream and squeal from inside knotted her stomach tighter. Thankful to be on this side of…
by John Danahy “I wouldn’t even touch Cliff,” Chloe said, cradling the phone between her neck and shoulder, “never mind actually do it with him. Not that I’m saying I’d actually do it with anyone. But Cliff thinks he’s God’s gift, and he’s definitely not my type.” “So who is…
by Telisha Moore Leigg “LaRissa,” Wishbone whispered to me all those years ago in the less-than-economy motel where we ended up after a few months on our own. “Give the joint back; take a puff or some shit! Jesus, kid! Get off the pot or piss.” How romantic, I thought,…
by Tony Press First there were only six, and then a few more arrived before noon, but the room was far from full. Nils wasn’t shocked at the low turnout but he was disappointed and that surprised him. He had attended so many funerals in the past year, almost always…