When they were dating, Tomáš chatted endlessly about all the Americans and Brits and Aussies he had befriended online over the family computer in his adolescence. He talked about how many of them disappeared completely, leaving behind only the legacy of their grammars and vocabularies; the composite parts he fashioned into fluency. Tomáš was an amalgamation of all things. And she forgave his forgetfulness because his memory worked like his control of Czech, English, Russian, so languid and free, until it would suddenly freeze, where a clever synthesis perched on the tip of his tongue. In these moments there was an intellectual bent to his stoppage, watching his brain scour the vast traffic of networks for one more piece of something to share with her. And when he found it, it came out as a hiccup-sized yawp.… more
Category Archives: FICTION
Two Stories
FICTION by Kim MagowanI think of that line Carrie Fisher says in When Harry Met Sally, when her character (Marie) is trying to persuade her boyfriend to get rid of his wagon wheel coffee table: “Everyone thinks they have good taste and a sense of humor. But not everyone can possibly have good taste and a sense of humor.”… more
Three Stories
FICTION by KossThey sat with their arms crossed like bows, a suicide squad with slashed mouths, forming a continuous-yet-jagged line along the seamed white walls. Each had a mic and the garish fluorescent light planed their skulls. She touched his arm, her man’s crisp Guanashina-suited arm, thin and shivering just a bit—and dug her nails in just a little.… more
Golden Garden
FICTION by Nataliia SovaWhen Dmitry was little, he counted stones. He imagined they were assets, like shiny diamonds he saw on TV. He fought a lot and his victories and losses were more or less balanced. His mother shouted when she saw his torn trousers and dirty knees.… more
Momma’s Broom
FICTION by CL BledsoeWhen Shug found out Vandale had already enlisted, he’d walked into town to sign up, himself. He’d almost made it, even though he was lying about his age, but Judge Foreman caught him.… more
Fabulous Freddy’s Last Gig
FICTION by Stephen G. EoannouI walk to the bar, scanning the crowd for off-duty cops and ex-soldiers, trying to spot thick necks, short hair, dick eyes. No one looks like they’d get involved. There’s no heroes in this audience. I’m the only one wearing a sport coat, but that’s okay. It’s not an Armani or Calvin Klein, something people might notice, just a cheap jacket I bought off the rack at AMVETS for a couple bucks. The fabric is shiny in places, the cuffs frayed, but it’s comfortable and keeps everything covered when I’m strapped.… more
Two Stories
FICTION by L Mari HarrisThese days, your dad’s attention is on gas prices, grain prices, and something called inflation that the new President—who I voted for, damned straight I did—is working hard to get back under control. Your mom sits in her chair, rubs her feet that she always says are dog tired, and even though you think she doesn’t pay him any more mind than you do, she’s the one who nods and says Mm-hmm every so often.… more
Slush
FICTION by Lilia AndersonWalls of tin that someone convinced people were homes fade behind me, blurred by the fogged mirror and the frozen window I didn’t bother to scrape. It’s ice beneath me, not slush like it was this morning. My car isn’t equipped for it, especially in the pitch black, but it hasn’t been for the last… more
Brunophant: An Ode to Bruno Schulz
FICTION by Meg TuiteSome boys clasped arms behind their heads and smirked. Humans, en masse, don’t exist without a hunt. My class was two-dimensional cut-outs steeped with the steamed vapor of their odious neighbors. Rabid blood in their eyes waited to stretch my carcass into the abyss.… more
Tombstone Blues
FICTION by John YoheI got it but my sister did not. Did something konk out from a fever I got? I’ve never known for sure, just that one day when I was eight and my grandparents and cousins were all over to our house for my uncle’s famous Taco Nights I got really really thirsty, I even thought… more
