by Sarah Toney (This story contains suicide.) The air was thin and icy. Breathing it in felt like swallowing shattered glass. The city was beautiful from this height and the boy wanted to reach out and feel the warmth of the setting sun. The heaviness in his chest felt a…
by K. M. Frantz On the eve of your fortieth birthday, I sat and glanced at the chalkboard hanging on the wall adjacent to my chair. On its surface were colorful reminders I’ve left for my family—usually things pertaining to our day-to-day. Occasionally, I’d give a welcoming shout-out to a visiting…
by Anne Johnston October in Georgia is a mosaic of orange, green, yellow, brown, red—of ash, birch, gum, oak, and evergreen trees that look down like elders onto the khaki pants, pastel prints, boat shoes, bourbon, and biscuits on the earth below. The elder trees nod and wave as the…
by Mike Cohen First of all, I have to thank Mrs. Popkin. I mean, Alice. I know, I know. I’ll try not to do that again, Alice. But it’s hard to call someone Alice who drove you to Hebrew class, not to mention dancing lessons, when you were a little…
by William Thompson I wake sometimes, knowing my sister has been looking at me—about to say something, but she never does. The words of blame never come. That came from my father, but even he never spoke the words that have condemned me for almost three decades, not even in…
by Norman Belanger “Oh for cripe’s sake, would you look at that!” Her first sip of soup ends up mostly on the front of her Easter blouse. She daps the tip of her napkin in a water glass, blots at the red stain on floral silk. “For Christ’s sake!” Nearly…
by Chelsea Eccleston The smoke stung my eyes, making them water uncontrollably. It burned my lungs, making me cough and unable to breathe. I crawled along the floor unable to tell where the door was. Was it in front of me? Behind? I was running out of time. I choked…
by Gabriella Garofalo Grieve not, sister, for the invisible, The hard-toiling wind, the grass hikers trample, Death’s ashen brother, the sleep, Don’t fall prey of tangled thoughts, You know she has an attitude And gives it the large, you know her – Trust me, soon the mist will rise From…
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…