After I heard Carolyn’s brother died I figured I should buy her some flowers. I mean, if my brother got high and fell in front of a train I’d want some flowers.… more
Category Archives: FICTION
Username Game
FICTION by J. R. WormingtonIt’s a sorry-ass way to go through life, being sorry that you take up space.… more
Bloodsuckers
FICTION by Dina DwyerShe looked at me with that gorgeous face twisted into its worst shape: pity. I hoped she would get hit by a slow-moving car on her way across the street. Just enough to tip her over, the cabbie honking and screaming out his window, her big round ass hitting a red road reflector as she goes down.… more
Cabin 28
FICTION by Mary ThorsonThere was vomit on the rug. That’s the first thing Thomas told his boss. Again, this is something he would never understand. When he got older, how he communicated what he saw. First, he talked about the vomit. Then he talked about the woman in her bed.… more
June Gloom
FICTION by John McMahonDre was no good for quiet work anymore, he couldn’t blend in anywhere. His mass drew stares like a natural force. He was muscle pure and simple but Alfonse loved him since the moment they set eyes on each other in the frozen winter yard at Sing Sing.… more
Pink Sunglasses Taller Than She Was
FICTION by Michael DrezinBefore I heard my coin drop, I saw the shortest, whitest-haired, most wrinkled, bony-fingered, woman in the largest pink framed sunglasses I had ever seen, look her purse snatcher over like he was a blouse she was thinking of buying. Then pow! Her knee. His pee shooter. Perfect landing.… more
Chicken
FICTION by Shayne Langford“It’s an animal,” Wife said. “It belongs outside with the birds and bugs and everything else with teeth.” I said, “He’s not an animal.” What I didn’t say was he was the only living thing I knew for sure would never leave me behind.… more
See the Wild Dogs of North Charleston
FICTION by Stephen HundleySee the wild painted dogs of North Charleston. The weak ones die, but the drive of those pregnant mother hounds snuffling the ditch-line for hours—to see them is to see ourselves. Something wild, their bodies bearing the scars of night fights and bad love and still they get up after a hard rain.… more
Ducksie
FICTION by Emyr PayneFor a sex worker, she was cheap; but for a prostitute she was harder on the wallet.… more
That Time You Sought to Kill That Bastard John J.
FICTION by Kristopher MonroeYou knew it was an emphatically bad idea to maintain a loaded weapon in a house with idiosyncratic domestic violence occurring on what seemed like a regularly scheduled basis, but you never had a say in the situation.… more
