Category: Fiction

by Marina Hill Hudson sat on the dirty plastic seat on the six train on November sixth, riding downtown to work. Middle of the week. Saturday could not come faster even if it wanted to. Saturday knew it was most desired and loved to play the tease—cheeky bastard. New Yorkers shoved their way into the… Continue reading AirPods on the Six Train →

by Erik Peters “What are you afraid of?” “Nothing,” I lied. “Then get in the water!” “No, I don’t want to.” The sun beat down from above and the sand radiated heat from below. I was beginning to panic. I wouldn’t have come on the bike ride if I’d known we would end up at… Continue reading Sea Monsters →

by Clay Hobson Somewhere at the edge of Virginia, there is a house with faded yellow paint flaking away at the corners. In one of its dimly lit rooms, there is a little boy sitting with his legs pretzeled underneath himself with all the sharp edges of barbed wire, fingers tracing patterns through the carpet… Continue reading Myosotis →

by Daniel Webre Everywhere I looked, I could see ships’ sails. Odd for a parking lot with no water. I thought at first that a show was in progress, like the ones the old men hold on Saturdays with their classic cars. Since these were sails, I’d expected boats, but there were none. Instead, the… Continue reading Sails →

by Caitlin Upshall He called it the color of envy. The old tales say that it was once his color. His armies wore it while they conquered the world. But soon, the armies became the rebels, and the world grew smaller behind tall walls. The rebels used the color as the only mockery they could… Continue reading Remember Your Blue →

by Clay Glaus All Bucko could do was watch the dark silver-colored clouds gather above him and hear the crackle of thunder as a storm began to form, making it too dangerous to fly for the day. He was a Canadian goose who had spent the past couple of days making the journey southward to… Continue reading Lonesome Journey →

by Peter Bauer The sun grew fat and sank nearer to the horizon. The desert sky bloomed into oranges and purples. In this desert, hidden in the hills and noble cacti, an unnatural structure protruded from the earth: It was a radio tower, set up alongside a recreational vehicle and an old Subaru, some 20… Continue reading King of the Cacti →

by Vivian Lawry Charlie settles his junk into the leopard-patterned thong and turns side to side, admiring his ink. He hip-checks the dresser drawer that holds his work clothes: thongs in animal prints, solid metallic silks, leathers soft as bridal gloves, paisleys and florals, geometric designs, and specialty ones for holidays. The holiday designs—sequins, hearts,… Continue reading Inked Man →

by Brett Biebel I’d had sex before I met Davey, but not much, and it was mostly unsatisfying. With guys who were real earnest. Too earnest, probably. Like you could tell they prided themselves on respect, but maybe it was all just a pantomime of respect, and they were only doing it so they could… Continue reading The Boy Martyr →

by Devan Hawkins Early in the evening, there was never any rhythm. The night of the Redcoat Club Reunion was no exception. A waitress would bring in a tray loaded with plates of uneaten food and crumpled napkins every few minutes, and clearing it was more like reaching for a glass of water at night,… Continue reading The Redcoat Club Reunion →