by Jo-Anne Rosen Though we’d known about each other over twenty years, we didn’t meet until that afternoon in the hospital when Alice burst into the room and dropped into the chair opposite mine. On the bed between us lay my husband, Frank. His jaw hung open and his breath was raspy. “Why
by Niles Reddick for Jerry and Ruth Ann Jimmy lived and breathed Rotary in Augusta, Georgia. That’s how he’d met his wife, Virginia. She was a Miss Georgia contestant, and once a year they paraded the young ladies through the club, partly to increase ticket sales to the beauty pageant among the wealthiest men in
by Gina Yates As I rinse my paintbrushes in the bathroom sink, I make a forlorn James Dean face in the mirror and try to recall when 3-day stubble became my signature look. Seriously though, at what point did I become so mired in angst that I succumbed to this half-assed grunge aesthetic? I don’t
by Cynthia Allen I’m suddenly a housewife like my mother, procuring groceries at different markets, cleaning dog hair off the kitchen floor, and promptly serving dinner weeknights at 6:00 pm. At first, I welcome the busyness, but as three weeks roll into four and six and eight, my patience wears thin. I’m doing what my
by Clive Aaron Gill In the spring of 2019, my good friend, Nicholas, texts me, Come to a cool party. With cool women? I text back. You’ll see. I’m known as Jay. I share an apartment with a friend in Oceanside, California, and I’m twenty-eight years old. I have a long
by Wayne Rapp I am the Director of Photography for a large Midwestern film and video production company, and how am I spending my time? Not that you’d have reason to know, but I’m redesigning the crew section of our budget forms. And this for the second time in the last quarter. I should have
by Leeore Schnairsohn CHAPTER ONE In the beginning it was all machines. Excavators dug channels through the wrecks of hotels and restaurants that coated the beach. Drones picked through the smaller pieces, hunting human remains before the waves or seagulls could get them. Bulldozers organized the concrete and plaster into hills the size of apartment
by Lydia Tai When I was seventeen, I knew a boy who told me a story that I’d never believe. His name was Ebright, and his eyes were a starry deep blue, bluer than the ocean during a storm. Ebright was taken from his parents at the age of seven. This might have had something
by Martin Toman The sun beat down. Hot air blasted into the cabin through the open windows. It was a long drive back to the vineyard from town, made dangerous by the rutted road. William bounced around on the bench seat, concentrating on avoiding the channels carved out of the surface by heavy winter rains,
by Allen Sherman My girlfriend Nicole spent most of her childhood in Italy. Her mother still lived there. After Nicole and I had been lovers for three years, her mother wanted to meet me. So, to celebrate Nicole’s twenty-fifth birthday, she sent us plane tickets to Milan. I arrived jetlagged, disoriented, and overjoyed to be