Category: fiction
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As for Me and My House
by Andrew Monge Ellen turned the minivan into her driveway, parked, and laid her head against the steering wheel. Minutes passed. Tears ran unabated down her cheeks, dripping off her face and onto the floor, the silence in the car broken only by her periodic sniffling. And then, laughter. Ellen’s…
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So Cold It Burns
by Tom Milani A digital camera with a telephoto lens sits on the passenger seat of my ten-year-old Corolla. I’m parked on a cross street facing a line of low cinder block buildings. It’s twenty-five degrees outside. Under the street lights, road salt sparkles like pyrite. Crusts of gray snow…
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Press Room Thirteen, Deep Within The Bowels Of Parliament
By Heather D Haigh So, Mr Nackus, can you reiterate for our readers, how this new policy will benefit those who are already the worst off in society, how locking them into their misery will alleviate the country’s soaring mental health issues? Well, Rachel, may I call you Rachel?…
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Sail Girl – Jon Doughboy
The girl grew up in marinas. Refurbished outboard engines for fun. Varnished teak for money. She had a tiller in her hand before she ever touched a doll or a rattle. Sailboats were her friends and dreams, siblings and parents. Across the bay they’d glide like creatures compelled by mysterious…
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Glutton like the Doo-Dah Man – Jon Gluckman
On jobs, I drive because Demetrius, Sal, and Vinny say I’m too fat to run. I’d weigh them down. They gotta point, but it hurts. I wait in the Charger. Don’t go into the paymaster’s office. Sit behind the wheel. Miss out, and get Twinkie all over my balaclava, waiting.…
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The Creation of Adam – Tabitha Bast
If you don’t know Etchy, you’ll know someone like him. He’s in the corner of the pub when we enter, and I put on a smile that’s tight around the edges. Etchy’s a couple of pints in already, though whatever he used to buy those will inevitably dry up on…
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Pink Tide – Paige Johnson
Some people say they lose their spark with the end of an era, an addiction, but I lost my shadow. I stare up at dusk’s spiral clouds like I’m waiting for a cyclone that won’t come. Like I’m a fiend for the fervor of wind and hail storms, yet I’ve…
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The Long Hike – Jody Wenner
As the garage door inched upward, it revealed the collection of a life complete. Boxes, bins, bags. A vignette of time represented by poorly labelled mementoes now piled in a dank, musty storage space. While my heart broke, my brother, standing beside me, let out an anguished moan as the…
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Restoration Hotwire – Scott MacLeod
Aldo slid into the driver’s seat. Brought the sweet new Volvo to a low purr. He was on a tight time schedule but couldn’t resist leaning back and breathing in that new car smell. Marvelled that his career had brought him to this place where he’d be sitting in a rig…
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