by Sue Brennan Aaron figured out which waitress was the one in the story. He’d come here before midday because in the story Eva complained about having to get ready for work while trying not to disturb her sleeping boyfriend, Geoff. Aaron varied his visits between 7am and midday over a week. There were three
by Shoshauna Shy She met her true soulmate under a beach umbrella on Nantucket Island, felt like she dodged a bullet, but eventually Soulmate returned to his wife. He took up with a Finnish bricklayer who already had custody of a couple of kids, and neither of them ever came around to liking him. She
by David Hallock Sanders A thin crescent moon hung low above the other apartments. The bright arc cradled the moon’s faint, red shadow. The new moon in the old moon’s arms, he thought. That’s what his father used to call it. Terry’s head throbbed. His 60-year-old body ached. He hadn’t taught a yoga class in
by Tim Tomlinson 1. The Two Girls There were two girls at the end of the block I grew up on. One had strawberry blonde hair, a pixie cut with bangs, and freckles. I don’t remember her name, I don’t remember much of anything we did, ever, but we did a lot. Or more accurately,
by Andrew Sarewitz Four children, each three years apart, raised by parents who instill similar values and make the same efforts and mistakes, still end up with outcomes that disprove nurture breeds consistency. We were three boys and one girl. I’m the youngest, which means, I’m lucky. Other than political views, we three boys span
by Robert Garner McBrearty In this version, the young woman drives through pouring rain and checks into an old, dilapidated motel where she is shown to her room by a tall man, the motel owner, who mutters something about his strange, ailing mother. The young woman steps into the shower, but senses movement, a shadow,
by Mark L Anderson I’ve always been fortunate when it comes to break-ups. More or less, I’ve never ended things with an earth-shattering argument, never ruined a favorite song, drank myself to oblivion, or had to burn all my photographs of someone. Well, I did have one bad experience. Years ago, I had a partner
by Brook Bhagat You show up in the afternoon. She hasn’t done her hair, and shadows hang in triangles under her eyes. The gray robe that used to be so soft is pulled tight and held hard. She props open the frosted screen door with her bare foot. “Why would you bring a cake on
by Margaret Guilbert BARN ROOFING My parents had wired $1,000 in cash to the A&P for me to find an apartment in New York, and I picked it up at the store on Third Avenue. There was a homeless woman standing outside in cold winter without a coat eating Campbell’s green pea soup from a