Houseplants – John Thompson
Tuesday, July 24, 2012 12:00 — 0 Comments
Joey wedged a carefully packed box of dishes into a secure spot of the U-Haul. They’d bought most of their household at flea markets and garage sales when they first moved West, and they’d sold or would leave most of what they’d accumulated, but a potter back in Pennsylvania had crafted the dish set to celebrate their marriage, and it would make the return trip East. Maggie could always turn a place into a home. They would just do it all again when she was healthy and they came back to Colorado. A horn toot alerted Joey and he leaned […]
The Gulf – Radha Narayan
Tuesday, July 17, 2012 13:02 — 3 Comments
Long hot days permeated by the scent of petrol and rubber, and longer nights distended by the desert silence, have carried Abdul Ghassan from his thirtieth to his sixtieth birthday without his being aware of it. He wakes at dawn when salaah sounds at the mosque, performs his ablutions at the common facilities, and returns to his portable cabin to pray. Each trailer in the work-yard is partitioned to house two men, and Abdul Ghassan’s home is little more than a berth with a bedside table. There is just enough room on the floor to pray, and these days it […]
Out Of Focus – John Osebold
Tuesday, July 10, 2012 14:01 — 0 Comments
Reed awoke one morning to find the city out of focus. First he thought his kitchen window was dirty. Then he worried his eyesight was damaged. But neither was the case. In truth, the skyline, the towers made of bricks, mortar, steel, and glass were fuzzy. The tallest towers were even missing their tops. Reed pondered whether or not to have breakfast. There was no reason not to, but he supposed that an entire city being out of focus deserved a symbolic change in one’s daily pattern, as when an acquaintance dies or a catastrophe occurs. In the end, out […]
Over – Cindy Bee
Tuesday, July 3, 2012 12:54 — 0 Comments
My brother and I like to tip things over, blow things up and run away that we might sneak back to see how the pieces have landed. But on those rare days when one of us is diminished or punished or in need of something we can’t explain, we sit on the curb and draw in the dirt with a stick. Neither of us can draw much and our game is simple. On this chilly Saturday morning, my brother starts by drawing a circle. “This is a ball.â€Â I take the stick (we always share a stick) and say, “This […]
3 Stories – James Claffey
Tuesday, June 26, 2012 12:04 — 3 Comments
Rare Glimpse The Old Man travels home on the ferry from Stranraer, catching the night train in Belfast and arriving for breakfast. Mam is grilling Denny sausages and Galtee rashers to beat the band before he’s taken his pea coat off. “Come here to me, son,†he cries, sweeping me off my feet and dangling me upside down, my hair brushing the linoleum. “Did you miss your Da? Did you?†“I did, Da. Yes.†I smell the whiskey mixed with his Old Spice aftershave, even from my distant position near the ground. After righting me and giving my shoulder a […]
Alligator Wine – David Rawson
Tuesday, June 19, 2012 12:56 — 1 Comment
The two Kellys, side by side. Identical bowl haircuts, identical white shirts and tight black pants. One with a red armband on her left, the other with a green armband on her right. Never looking directly at anything for too long, and never at each other. One right, one left. One up, one down. The smirks to signal the ongoing joke: the knowing, bored look, which signals this has all happened before. And it has. The games started at 9, so the Kellys arrive at 11:30. Some people have come and gone. The Kellys have brought a bottle of champagne. […]
Star – Zac Hill
Tuesday, June 12, 2012 12:29 — 0 Comments
An Entirely Anti-Climactic, Ahem, Climax to a Decade-Plus-Spanning Narrative Involving Desire and the Creation/Fulfillment Thereof  or, if it floats your boat, Star  –  For as long as I can remember I have wanted to sleep with Evan Rachel Wood. Look. This is less creepy than it sounds, since Thirteen came out when I was like sixteen and the whole Avril Lavigne punk-chic thing was in full vogue. She’s got maybe a year on me tops. I can’t say it was my only real celebrity crush, since Natalie Portman has a beating heart and until very recently wasn’t […]
ILLUMINATING THE UNKNOWN – L.L. Pierce
Tuesday, June 5, 2012 12:58 — 0 Comments
“Mama,†cried the youngest boy, barely tall enough to see across the king-sized bed. “What?†Mama replied, indignantly, sitting idly on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but a long blue t-shirt and cotton underpants. “Go eat your food, don’t be rambling on tonight, John. I’m not up for it.†The boy’s face, which naturally obtained a light angelic tone, drew a sudden disappointed blankness, as though all of the goodness he was made up of was sucked right out of him, quickly and roughly, leaving him hollow, dry and lost as a Northwest Valley. But he did as […]
Late and Lost – James Bergstad
Tuesday, May 29, 2012 12:45 — 1 Comment
Like everything in life, the hangover beat Ray Martelli into the fucking ground. Rain-bred traffic had him running behind. He missed a call as he arrived forty-five minutes late and knew what he faced; another Sal Bonafazio tirade. The VP of Operations loved to jerk Martelli’s chain. Opening the terminal office late gave Bonafazio one more link to jerk. At eight-fifty-eight the phone trilled again and Bonafazio’s face popped into his throbbing head. Martelli glanced at the vodka bottle, winking reflections of fluorescent lighting like some plastic bowling trophy. He grabbed it. Pushed it between his legs. “Merchants Intermodal. Ray […]
Amelie – Sandra Ketcham
Tuesday, May 22, 2012 13:12 — 0 Comments
Amelie is tall and thin. In high school, the other girls called her “Amazon Amelie.†She was less thin then and less tall. She stopped eating when she turned 17, lost a lot of weight, and now waits in the hospital for a new kidney to replace the one she starved to death. The night nurse, Josh, feels sorry for her. He thinks Amelie is beautiful, with her thin dark hair and her sharp, angular face, so he spends more time with her than with his other patients. Sometimes, when no one is watching, he sneaks candy bars into her […]
The answer isn't poetry, but rather language
- Richard Kenney
