MrBullBull

Where Do We Go From Here?

There I’d be, their pumpkin coachman with the Johnny Depp glued to my face, passing out business cards. Didn’t get many takers, but I did get some Polaroids of buxom blondes pissing in the alley, steam rising from the pavement. Art!… More

Rowan’s First Week

FICTION by Scott Miles

Rowan tells me he’s here to file a request to contest a restraining order filed by his wife, Ambrosia. “Like the marshmallow salad?” I ask. No, Rowan says, and then he mentions something about immortality and ancient Greek mythology and I snooze on him.… More

This Is Practically a Lie

FLASH FICTION by KUMAR SEN

“Man” means a set of expectations you inherit like debt with interest that compounds in silence. “Soft” means breach. “Crying” means loss of data, irrecoverable. “Fear” means user error, correct immediately. You scroll. You don’t read. Nobody reads.… More

You Said

FLASH FICTION by Dina Perthakines

AC conked out a week ago and the fan’s just blowing hot air around. The City is fucking loud and one asshole won’t stop laying on the horn. Thought I’d be inside you tonight. You said. Waited all summer.… More

Partial Guide to Being Half-Mexican

FICTION by Nicholas León

The first thing you should do is admit you will never be full Mexican. You will never do this. The second thing you should do is make good on the threat you made to Oscar at lunch the other day and show him your Dad at Fall Festival coming up.… More

A Dollar Bill

FICTION by Jacqueline Chou

She said you could take a hundred-dollar bill, and step on it, and get it all dirty. You could drop it on the ground, and a dog could take a dump on it. But you still wouldn’t throw that Benjamin away. Because it was still worth a hundred dollars.… More

How to Mind Your Own Business

FLASH NONFICTION by Marcia Yudkin

When someone drifts far from shore on a bright yellow or orange float—a shark attractor for sure? The lifeguard tower remains mum. I hold my tongue, too. Not my business.… More

What I Should Have Done

FLASH FICTION by Susan Israel

Dad was in Da Nang when I was born, so he wasn’t there pacing, wearing holes in the maternity ward carpeting, making funny faces at the bassinet just beyond his reach. He was loading an M16. He named it after me.… More

Brother

FICTION by Fran Kursztejn

Venezuela was bombed. We bombed them, I mean. These things don’t just go and happen. I had the feeling, because of events that happened later, important events to the story, but no more or less important than the bombing, that I bombed them, Venezuela I mean.… More