This morning, after the Sheriff and two state investigators left his office carrying sealed boxes, the man did not return home—instead, he drove to a neighboring town and bought three things: Dancing shoes. A hamburger. A shotgun. The dancing shoes he delivered to his daughter whom he would never see again. The hamburger he ate… more
Author Archives: Ben Drevlow
Cats and Dogs
FICTION by Adam GalanskiI saw a cat give birth today at my buddy Anthony’s apartment in Logan Square. Her name is Nezumi. Anthony named her. I found her and gave her to him. It was the dead of winter and me and my girlfriend, Rosa, were walking home from the semi-truck mechanic shop our bands practice in, down… more
Black Licorice Memory
FICTION by Billie PritchettBecause my regular toothpaste tastes like black licorice, brushing my teeth every night brings back childhood memories of me sitting with my grandfather in his den, he in the La-Z-Boy, I on the couch with a handful of black licorice jellybeans. The reason I can have this recall of memory, that is, the reason my… more
When Things Break
FICTION by Michael CugliettaThey woke up to a puddle on the kitchen floor. The seal on the freezer door broke. Since they weren’t allowing people in the house, they couldn’t call a professional. But he assured her he could fix it on his own. It was a matter of pride. First, he emptied the contents of the freezer.… more
Cowboy Rooster, Rooster Cowboy
FICTION by Simon NagelRooster tipped back his slouch hat and chomped down on the American Spirit between his beak. It was a hot one down in San Miguel, a lot like the year he slummed in the cockfighting dens of Pamplona. It ruffled his feathers, gave him some character. Not like now. Some birds won’t scratch around until… more
The Afterlife
FICTION by Robert DetmanGary stands by the side of the road that killed his wife. At least, he can imagine this is the road. Rickety tuk-tuks leave contrails of greasy exhaust. Mopeds bear down, brushing close, deliberate acts of disregard. Students. They ride in sandals or even bare feet, helmetless, alongside cars, trucks, and tuk-tuks, all competing to… more
Batting Practice Apocalypse
FICTION by Caleb SarvisAs the sun rises, the rays brush Mickey’s neck and reveal a raw impression left by the belt. A premature scar, fighting for life. The skin has the texture of used chewing gum stretched to the point of tearing. Bronson hopes it will fade soon, so he can stop looking at it, so Mickey will… more
The Diamond Ghosts of the Southern Plains
FICTION by Mason ParkerThe stack of lumber behind my feet in the batter’s box let Coach Connor know that I stepped away when I should have leaned into the swing. That I was scared of the ball. Collapsed two-by-fours meant three laps or twenty push-ups, red grit dusting my lips and teeth as I hustled around the baseball… more
The Barber
FICTION by Daniel AdlerThe World’s Best Barbershop has a sign in the window with a number below the words Call Flame, and when you call Flame says he’ll be there in ten or fifteen minutes and eight minutes later rolls up in a ten-year-old Cadillac, tinted windows a quarter-rolled down so you can see his dry cleaning hanging… more
Floater
FICTION by Greg JenkinsAnd everything stays fine for a while. During this time life smells pretty fragrant to me even if the basic facts that comprise it haven’t really changed. … more
