I’ve always wanted to have ancestors who would tell me what to do. A rough Irishman with a leathery face. A stout German with a simple, but unshakable worldview. But I only had a father, and he was mostly absent, and he died when I was a teenager. And so I read about Winston Churchill.… More
Sins of the Fathers
FICTION by David LuntzMaybe Uncle Kev saw himself in the prophets. Or as one of them. A middle-aged bachelor, former heavyweight boxer, dabbling in spirituality, painting his nails, sewing dresses. Transitioning. Maybe he was broken, too.… More
Uncle Alberto Hates His Job
CREATIVE NONFICTION by Rina PalumboI like driving; he once told me you can go anywhere. He still had curly hair, mostly grey, and a mustache, which I think he dyed. He wore pointy shoes but no shiny clothing anymore. Just the dullness, the creases in his face hardening. The loathing of everything and everyone dampened only by the hard ache of time.… More
Home Ec
FICTION by George SingletonMy father, who worked on and off part-time as a salesman, plying anything from vacuum cleaners to Better-than-Brillo, wore oversized shoes because he thought it gave him an advantage. Later on I learned that there was some kind of correlation between large feet and penis sizes. Did he know this? Was he going door-to-door and showing off these shoes in order to both mesmerize and conjure unsatisfied women? I don’t know.… More
The Second Generation, Then the Third
FICTION by Joseph WeinerI said to my wife on our first date, I’m not a nice guy. She says, Yes you are. I say, No, really, I’m not. She says, I’ll make you into a nice guy. I say, You can’t stuff two pounds of broken bones into a one-pound bag. Some people hurt too much. She says, I’ll make you into a nice guy.… More
They Say Crying Is Good For You, But I Find It Depressing
FICTION by Alex RostThe bench he sits on is old. It is not well built. The wood it’s made from hasn’t smoothed over time, but has instead splintered. He wonders if it will be replaced when it is worn through past use. He looks at his hands, arthritis gnarled, and decides that he doesn’t care.… More
Flash Nonfiction
FLASH NONFICTION by Harrison GatlinHe ran out of whatever juice was propelling him, like a wind-up toy petering out, and he settled into the look of calm, unquestioning authority that had characterized him for 88 years. “I love you Bud,” I said. And that in universal death there must be universal love did not seem true exactly but close enough for me to breathe out my grief and replace it with a mild strain of joy as the pendulum of sleep swung back over his eyes and I could leave.… More
Broth
FICTION by Jon DoughboyInstead of some magic mushrooms hidden in clumps of cheap milk chocolate, I found a shoebox labeled broth with a little plunger and some bands and, beneath them, a packet of information that told me it was a foreskin stretcher. … More
Outlet
FICTION by Sarah FrelighRita’s got one eye on her toddler and the other on her order screen. She tucks her phone under her chin and repeats the order back to the red Corolla, makes a face at Agnes, her boss who likes to say, the customer is right, usually. She’s okay for a boss, fun even, is also semi-okay with Rita bringing her kid to work now and then. Like today when he sneezed twice at drop-off and Claire, the prissy daycare lady, said absolutely not, but whatever. … More
August comes to city and country
CREATIVE NONFICTION by James ShapiroYou are bound for the neighbor’s horse barn where we can talk about artificial knees and hips and dropping dead and the dog sleeps with fluttering hunt eyes and the cat blinks watchfully from the little window ledge looking wise about nothing at all.… More
Don Whitney, by Don Whitney
FICTION by Matthew RobersonThere was a floaty moment where even the kids in their car seats seemed to notice, and his wife Kelly, she just took a breath that went down to her toes, and Don, he didn’t have some miraculous driving maneuver that saved the day, some turn into the slide bullshit; no, he just thought, like he was about to post to Facebook, Don Whitney is gonna die, along with his whole freaking family, in a smoking, twisted heap. … More
