by Mark Conkling Jeremy leaned forward on his handicapped walker. “Mother, that’s insane. There’s absolutely no reason to burn the house down.” Naomi crossed her arms. “Do what I say. Burn it down the day after my funeral.” “But why?” “I don’t ever want anyone else cooking in my kitchen,…
by Caroline Bruckner He had no name and no place to stay. They called him The Hood sometimes, after Robin Hood, because of the way he lived. Not that he ever stole anything. Nothing worth much, anyhow. If he ever had stuff, he gave it away. He wanted nothing. He…
by Nitin Dangwal You came to know that a guy in your college loved you. You came to know this when you bumped into an old friend from college, and he casually mentions this. You are bemused because you always thought of him as a friend. You smile, and express…
by Jesse Bier To: Chairmen, Democratic and Republican National Committees To Whom It May Concern: This is to inform you that I am not running for President of the United States in the next election. Very truly yours, Jesse Bier P. S. I am available, but I am not running,…
by Mark Ali The balcony door slid open and Warren stepped outside. It was another Oakland winter. The winds were westerly. The climate was Mediterranean. Rain was absent on this evening, the sky was clear. The air was sharp and crisp. Warren moved to the balcony to escape the rising…
by Michael C. Keith I speak now from under the surgeon’s hacksaw as he removes my cranium to access my brain. I’m an involuntary cadaver donor murdered so that a medical school can reveal the secrets of the human form to its students. They surround my lifeless body as the…
by Michael C. Keith You know those little malted milk balls probably more popular in the 1950s than today? Well, they made me puke. Not the chocolate on the outside but the malt inside. There was something about the crusty centers that offended my taste buds and gave my gut…
by Don Mager With its departing mists, amber dusk wanders across the dinner hour’s shower, the way aromas drift their savory steam in a warm kitchen: turmeric stew and saffron rice and backing gourd-shaped halves of butternuts. The kinesthetic air pulses with color’s body. It throbs in moisture’s glow. Buried…
by Marty Carlock The Audi is beetle-black and shiny as a dancing slipper. Under her hand the door latch opens with a heavy snick. She slides into the passenger seat, knowing the danger. The door closes with that weighty authoritative sound automotive designers have determined indicates quality. The leather is…
by Lynn Doiron 1. I found nubby letter R’s meant for jackets, meant to brag, meant to say to everyone, I got this one for swimming, this one for track. I found the Iwo Jima buckle, brass and never worn. I found the ball-strike counter from his kneeling days behind…