PRIX FIXE • by Michael Tracy
The waiter asked us if we had been to Du Temps Perdu before. It wasn’t really a question. I think it was obvious we were from out of town. We must have looked like we had wandered in from a… Continue Reading
MOVING ON • by Maggie Fawcett
Final Countdown. “This move will be a fresh start,” Ryan said, as he stared out through the porthole, in their cabin. The once red planet now a superheated landscape, heaped with industrial waste, and enveloped in a thick cloud of… Continue Reading
FUCKING DOCTOR THOMPSON • by Jack Williams
My wife got me this tie for my birthday once and it was so obviously awful I think she had it custom made. I smiled with all my teeth and thanked her and then I regifted it to the guy… Continue Reading
SMOKE TREE • by Dev Jannerson
They creep into Smoke Tree Trailer Village on a moonless night. Normally, our desert community remains undisturbed, except when Palace brings food for Jenika. When the unfamiliar RV rattles into our lot, I come out of reverie to Jenika’s whispers:… Continue Reading
BROTHER • by Gordon W. Mennenga
After my mother died, my father, Jack Weber, moved to his condo in Florida. No more lawyering for Lobo Meat Pack. For years his condo was off limits to my mother and me. Dad took his R&Rs down there while… Continue Reading
BIOLUMINESCENCE • by Fiona Murray
By the end of the road trip we were all exhausted and none of us wanted to be there. There was only one night left before our long drive home. My son was ten and refused to do anything other… Continue Reading
THE SHAPE OF YOU • by Dana Wall
The first time I felt Amy standing behind me after she died, I was making her signature hot chocolate — the kind that requires three separate acts of faith: dark chocolate melted slow as sunrise, milk chocolate stirred until it… Continue Reading
THE HERETIC • by Jeff Gard
I accidentally make eye contact on the morning train, which the Trevorite across from me takes as an invitation. “Lovely day, isn’t it?” His dark anime eyes calculate every exposed freckle, mole, and hair on my exposed skin. “It’s raining,”… Continue Reading
THE PERSISTENT VISITOR • by Kevin March
The first time Oscar slipped through the half-open window of Mrs. Trudell’s apartment, she almost dropped her knitting needles. The black cat stared at her with golden eyes, tail swishing like a metronome. “I don’t want a cat,” she said… Continue Reading
THE NEGOTIATION • by Mary Lamphere
The slamming fist is punctuated with a sharp, “No.” It might’ve been more impressive if the fistwielder hadn’t been a wisp of a woman, pale and reedy in stature. Her adversary chuckles, settling into the wide chair, hands clasping across… Continue Reading