by Jo-Anne Rosen He knew it would be a mistake to let Bella drive. She was hard on cars and his was past its prime. “You don’t want to drive all day, Charles,” she said. “How far is it to Joshua Tree? You’ll need a break.” “I’ll be fine,” he said. “You need a holiday
by Bill Kitcher As I often do, I was sitting at the bar, writing. I thought I had a pretty good idea so I was focused, and didn’t notice as the bar filled up and I was surrounded. When I looked up to order another beer, I noticed the crowd, particularly the guy sitting beside
by Sarah Sarai i. Someone is tapping on the professional wood of Lucy’s professional workstation on the eighteenth floor of the professional law firm. She looks up to see a tall, skinny man, a legal-looking man, a lawyer, in fact. He wears a loose black suit, a suit not picked off an $80-or-less rack, yet
by Melinda Thomsen Inspired by Henri Toulouse-Lautrec’s Jane Avril Dancing (1891-1892) Henri hangs out in the corner drinking absinthe and sketching. Look at this sketch of me in lines. He throws lines down as fast as he tosses drinks down his throat. Remember the famous poster he did called La Goulue? Now his placards sell
by Les Bohem “Someone like you should not be allowed to start any fires.” — David Bowie, “Win” My friend Peter Woolcott was incredibly good-looking. The great grandson of a duke, he had the classic features of a prince, with a combination of arrogance and vulnerability that was amazingly appealing. He did not carry himself
by Cullen McMahon What is the word that describes the feeling you have when, on returning home Mother’s Day morning with bagels and coffee and, on the passenger seat beside you, an orchid (the last available orchid, in fact, $89.50, “a beaut” said the sales girl), you park in the garage and, because the garage
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