by Sarah Ghoshal When the bottle of frozen vodka crashed onto the tile floor, we all knew it was over. After all, the sheets in the wind stopped blowing long ago, the hurting backbones and tired ankles and fallen dreams burn tightly with sleet. The outside is a burst of fog. The outside is a
by Richard L. Matta The phlebotomy classes paid off. I can tie off and stick like nobody’s business. For so long I’ve been been pricking the needle time and time again to float above the pain of betrayal and lost love and this cold isolation. I still have the teddy bear a chick left me
by Gretchen Primack Some of your brother’s illness was there all along, some bloomed as he came of age. You came of age in the bunk below, his shrieks staining the ceiling, grease from his head staining the wall. He is still there. You climbed out how you could. You have a trace of his
by Bruce Whitacre Fine as a grain of sand yet vast as a planet, lightning eater, thermal forge, bosom of river and lake, air anchor, wind sculpture, you host the play of all, from the touchable to the unsayable. When we dug the foundation of
by David M. Katz There are so many things you do not like But cannot change yourself. You are a mule That will not leave its stall. Your bones ache. You’re when and what you are. You are no fool, But neither are you smart. You make demands, You dictate how we talk about ourselves,
by Niles Reddick Among the G-Wagons, Ferraris, and Rolls Royce convertibles, we parked our rented Ford Escape and walked with tourists and the rich and famous shoppers. My wife pronounced it “Ro-day-o” while I pronounced it “Ro-dee-o” because I was from the rural Midwest and had gone to rodeos my entire life. My pronunciation annoyed
by Barb Natividad When Max came and went from his apartment, one of his neighbors was usually in the tiny front yard of their building, sitting on a plastic lawn chair next to a cooler. His hands dangled from the arm rests. His left hand was missing three fingers. The neighbor always nodded at Max
by David Macpherson On a cold November morning, Walter backed the Subaru from his parking spot and hit something hard. He grunted as he got out to inspect the damage. The annoying alarm reminded him he had left his keys in the ignition. He forgot more these days— scenes hidden behind a thick wall he
by Geri Lipschultz “Did you notice that the most enlightened souls are born on January 1st, and the second most on December 31st? Did you notice that both you and Miranda are kings—not aces, however—according to your birthdays, alone? Fascinating it is how similar you are, even in your differences—you who dabble in the esoteric,
by Murali Kamma The rains were scarce that year, causing hardship in the region, but at Noname Place, more than the erratic supply of water, it was M who initially brought disruption to the residential building. M? Could they really have used only letters when referring to individuals? Sure, and they used numbers as well