by Joan Mazza Past tax day, end of April, below freezingthis morning, iced water for the strays,a good day for a fire in the wood stove,started with old newspapers. A headlinefrom 2018 says, Philip Roth is Still Here.No. He isn’t. A day to burn more paper—heat from receipts, bills paid…
by Elise Swanson Ochoa I pay these bastards every week because someone told me it was good for me. I pay her too. I pay my monthly subscriptions. I hate taillights, tire screeches, and my tight neck. “Mongolia was a dream.” “I feel your gratitude.” “Embrace it; your aura is…
by Paige Medlock This story contains mentions of suicide. The craving for memories and emotions burned my throat with desperation in an almost insanity-like frenzy. In the darkness, I paced and contemplated taking the life of a man who wanted nothing more than to take his own. I questioned myself…