Game Theory by Merridawn Duckler
Becky is a bully. Her sister, Corey, should have been a boy. These are facts which Corey knows to be as certain as the word facts, fat middle letters fenced in by two taller guard letters.
December by Fred Muratori
Death is rarely timed to match the logical end of something else. My father died in December, but my mother died in January.
My Love is a Worthwhile Horror by Stephen Wack
She wishes to introduce me to her son who might be vicious. “Might be?” I say. “Yes,” she says.
The Accident by Neil Shepard
No exit, here–just a recurring curve of memory. Turn south, drive with me a while down Route 5 to a blind-rise.
Coats by Gary Fincke
The morning of the company president’s Christmas party, my wife Christine read me a story from the newspaper about a woman found hiding in a neighbor’s bedroom closet.