We take our boys to church. It’s been a while. We remember the Hello My Name Is badges stuck between their then-tiny shoulder blades when we fetched them from childcare the last time we came.
Good People by Josh Russell
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Issue #14
Let’s Play Ball, Cecil by Dan Crawley
A young boy entered the sunken ball court through the skinny entrance not far from the ancient pueblo ruins.
Three Days by Salvatore Difalco
I opened my eyes from a deep sleep with a start. Nonna’s toothless face hovered over mine, her eyes swollen and red, her breath hot and coffee-tinged.
Migration by Joy Allen
In the thick of fall migration, all the city kept watch. We’d heard the warnings; this year would yield more birds than usual, louder and hungrier than any season before.
“Fuck Zeus,” Ms. Lynne Said in Fourth Period English by Paul Crenshaw
And Tommy tittered. Sean sat up at the sound. The rest of us looked at Ms. Lynne in her checkered shirt and Catwoman glasses, too stunned to respond.
Odin, Consider Me for Valhalla by Michael Hammerle
If someone could make it all the way through and not complain, not speak a word about their cancer, could they go to Valhalla?
The Unintentional Ways of Timelessness by Nikoletta Gjoni
It probably happened only a few times, but like many memories that remain suspended in space, I remember it being a ritual we developed and shared until the earth would fall flat all around us.
Pretty Girl by Jacqueline Doyle
Her head throbs. She has no idea how long it’s been since he came up behind her in the dark parking garage, one hand squeezing her throat, one holding a gun to her head, whispering “Don’t scream, pretty girl.”
Sling Shot by Craig Fishbane
I had pestered my father to take me on the Sling Shot ride the night of the disaster.
My Painting of Me by Adam Berlin
“I didn’t wrap it well,” she said. She was right. She hadn’t. The edges were off, the tape sloppy, the paper paper-bag brown.
Millhouse Again by Paul Beckman
Millhouse awoke when the page dropped on him. It was the third time and he got up and dove escaping the next crushing page.
No Monster by Eric Bosse
I wanted chocolate chip cookies, so I made a batch with extra chocolate chips then passed off my indulgence as a gesture of love for my wife and kids.
Via Dolorosa by Karen Jones
Children laugh, shout, “Haw, Fur Coat! That you away to the opera, aye?”
Anatomy of a Marriage by Stephanie Hutton
The scan confirms what I already suspect: my organs are in the wrong place. The doctor shakes her head at the computer screen.
There’s a Joke Here Somewhere and It’s On Me by Sara Lippmann
I mistook the Catholic schoolgirls for friends until I learned my mother paid them fifty cents an hour to pick me up from elementary and walk me home, knee socks slouched and kilts rolled at the hip.