Fiction

Naomi Telushkin – Liar

Liar He tells me he’s been with Lydia, that woman with red hair. She isn’t a petite beauty, Lydia, she’s almost masculine, and it raises some questions in the college circuit—Gay or what? He tells me he’s been with Lydia while we huddle by the bonfire, the big bonfire outside Stables, the nickname for the […]

Ken Schweda – Before All of This

Before All of This What am I now that I was not before all of this? I am God. Do you think you are reading this because you chose to? You are an abject fool. I created this chain of events. I willed you here to this time and place and these words. Do not […]

David Dominé – Schmucks at the Starbucks

Schmucks at the Starbucks             “You coming, Schmuck?” The cell phone at his ear, he studied the reflection in the rearview mirror and exaggerated a smile. The front teeth looked good but he needed to fix that rotten molar all the way in the back. “I’m in the parking lot […]

Yaron Kaver – The Troll

The Troll He considered the phrase “last meal” and the men it brought to mind—death row inmates on the eve of their execution and Jews on the eve of their Yom Kippur fast. And Jesus, he supposed, who embodied both groups, by far the most famous Jew to eat a holiday dinner and then march […]

Frankie Carter – Pushover

Pushover When Will’s mother died, it took them a month to find his father. Ty Stewart was a tall, broad-shouldered fellow with the same riotous coffee-colored curls as Will; he was in the wine business, he said, Married, but his wife lived in France. He looked at his son a bit warily, but he tried. […]

Vincent Chu – Rhubarb Pie

Rhubarb Pie The walls of his cubicle are particularly low. Ruben sits at his desk, his cornmeal oxford shirt crinkled and untucked at the hips, his white crew socks showing, his coiled black hair flattened on one side, glinting with the kind of rich, human shine you only get from not showering for three or […]

David Gialanella – Her Own Room

Her Own Room The man stood at the window.  The sun was melting crimson onto the tree line, but instead he pecked at his phone with furrowed brow.   The woman sat in a chair, overaggressive springs prodding upward beneath the vinyl.  Her soles fused to the floor, tacky and gleaming with disinfectant.   She rested her […]

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