A Conversation
Fiction by Stanton YeakleyEugene and Carol sat on their sagging porch outside the house they bought when they were young and oblivious to the permanence of this flyover country. Their land was hard, but Carol, at least, remembered when it had been harder.… More
Porkchop
Fiction by Heath DollarEnglish teachers would draw steep mountains on the chalkboard and label them with nonsense such as “Rising Action,” “Climax,” and “Denouement,” a word he found unbearably pretentious. Life was nothing like that. Most people repeated the same tasks over and over day after day. They got up. They went to work. They came home. If a publisher wanted realism, that was as real as it gets. Life was more about cycles than linear, or even alpine, developments. And what was the climax of his average day? Lunch? … More
Tackling Drills
Essay by Blake KilgoreIn Texas, football is a religion, with elaborate ritual and fanfare. I was scrawny in middle school; one of the shortest, skinniest and weakest kids in town, I still laced up the cleats each fall. If you happened to be good at the game, say a quarterback or running back with speed and agility (i.e.,… More
Switchback
Fiction by Josh FeldmanEven the sky didn’t want to be here. As Brandon and Tyler waited for more daylight to come down, piece by piece, they sat by an equally uninspired fire. The flames crackled in fits, reluctantly, but Tyler needed no assistance in the heat department. He was already fuming.… More
Snowbanks
Fiction by Norman BirnbachIt was the year when many men of a certain age wore high-performance athletic vests to work when all they did was sit at a desk all day, and accented their salt-and-pepper goatees by wearing porkpie hats with small upturned brims. Usually they were going bald, and the hats, which they wore both outside and… More
American Woods
Fiction by Rob PierceHe didn’t know whether the men he killed did so as payment for a petty grievance; more likely it was something serious, and it wasn’t up to him to decide who was right. Why was not a question he ever asked.… More
Meat Teeth
Fiction by Zack GrahamHe feels his arteries open. His heart starts to burn. The sensations drive him forward. He thinks about how the men probably laughed when they finally gouged the tusks out of the elephant’s face. Their laughter was probably high pitched. Maybe they even drank a beer to celebrate the carnage.… More
It’s Always the Boyfriend
Fiction by Rue BaldryAny time a kid goes missing, if her mam’s got a boyfriend, they always reckon it was him done it. We all know better now, but back then the whole world was sure I was a child murderer.… More
Alice Kaltman
BULL Interview by Benjamin DrevlowAs you might’ve heard, Jonathan Franzen’s back at it with his latest novel about suburban angst and ennui. Save your money. Buy Dawg Towne by Alice Kaltman instead.… More
Dating
Fiction by J. CaryWhen I was fifteen I slapped a state trooper and later that day my youth service counselor grabbed my arm so tight I had to listen. I needed to be like other girls, he said, even if I had to fake it.… More
Under the Bridge
Fiction by David MorrisThe reports would all say the same thing: that he had ventured here in violation of safety protocols. That his death, far from an accident, was the logical outcome of a cascade of mistakes, poor judgements, and bad decisions.… More
Mustache
Fiction by Tim LaneHe lights and drags. He passes it to you. You take it and inhale. You will do anything, you realize, and this thrills you more than it scares you.… More
Hard-Boiled Funeral
Fiction by John AffleckBack at the graveside, Larry was still dead. Incense burned and was wafted around, dirt got tossed in the grave.… More
All the Dead Things Come Back to Haunt Me After You Leave
Fiction by Kari TreeseYou asked me three times to clean the smudge off the ceiling. I said I would but I kept forgetting. I think this is one reason. … More
Home at the Stretch
Fiction by Jared WyllysOne of my earliest memories is of my mother turning a baseball game on the radio while waiting for me to fall asleep for an afternoon nap.… More
Death Stalked Him Like a Matador
Fiction by Robert O'BrienI knew then what it meant, to bleed slowly from the heart.… More
“The car had been through a reconstructed transmission, a busted carburetor, and was an absolute lush for Valvoline.” – Jordan Farmer, “Brothers”
