by David Vonderheide I remember to the minute the last time I saw snow. My family and I were on a snowspotting trip to New Hampshire, crowded out on the balcony of our Airbnb in the wee hours of the night. A spattering of flakes, embattled with a wispy updraft,…
by Gina Scott The line, four deep, seems daunting this late in the afternoon. Jenny asks herself if she really has the time to wait, and more importantly, if it’s worth the wait to buy the birthday card she has taken too much time to choose. What she wants and…
by Wood Reede I am gone—not gone in the sense that I’ve disappeared—but gone just the same. I ride a wave of euphoria that promises to transport me someplace other than here, anyplace but here. I close my eyes, lean back, and fly through space. Stars explode and planets spin….
by Eric Sentell (This story contains violence.) Ryan parked his dead mother’s Corolla in an abandoned lot across the highway from Patty Johnson’s trailer park, stuffed a pair of brown jersey gloves in his back pockets, and looked around for people and cars. Seeing no one, he walked under the…
by Thomas Weedman It starts when I lose my keys at work and unexpectedly find K in my apartment bed. She’s a nubile barista I serve coffee with. She’s half my age and size, part-time bassoonist, but like me, a full-time flirt. Out-of-my-league, she and her touch-me-please mestizo skin are…
by Aysel Atamdede A single spotlight pans across the empty stage, a pale circle of light in an otherwise blackened room. Beyond, the auditorium sits silent, the seats waiting to be filled. On the stage, a solitary dancer stands at the ready. Clad in a dress of midnight blue, she…
by DC Diamondopolous Pa decided to join the Bonus Expeditionary Force. After dropping Ma and the youngsters off at Uncle Vernon’s, he let me ride the rails with him from our home in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania, all the way to the Washington Freight Yard. Pa and thousands of other veterans were…
by Trish Annese I meet M. in Prague on a lonesome Sunday in March as I chase a lost turquoise scarf down an asphalt alley and she retrieves it, stepping from the recesses of a darkened doorway—a mistress of ceremonies stepping into the spotlight—and restoring it to me with a…
by Meri Parker Camp, near Saratoga, New York Oct. 18, 1777 My dear Frances, I finally have joyful news to share with you. After 33 days of fighting and bloodshed, General John Burgoyne has formally surrendered to our General Horatio Gates, after requesting a ceasefire five days ago following his…
by Joseph Dehner “Be the best,” John’s father told him on his tenth birthday. But then Dad injected a correction that would burrow like a parasite into John’s memory. “What I mean is, John, be the best that you can be.” John ripped off the gift wrap and gushed, “Wow,…