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Carrion Clay

By Matthew McHugh

Sometimes the name they give you is all wrong.  It’s really just meant to be a simple, two-word phrase to…

Buffering

By David James Poissant

That morning, Ted began buffering. One minute, he was Ted, coffee cup in hand, talking animatedly about this thing he’d…

Nesting

By Blake L. Bell

Walls Her nest is too tall by the time Molly realizes she can’t climb in. “I left my tools inside.…

Millennial Pink Bread

By Meagan Cass

As if covered in invisible glaze, her bread bakes pink. She buys new flour, new yeast, sends it into the…

Two Identical Strangers

By Rosetta Young

These days, when I pull up the old photographs, most people still attribute the resemblance between Lydia Lissing and me…

Me and Eddie on the Boulevard

By Francine Witte

waiting to cross.  My heart tick, ticking like a stupid clock.  Eddie and his dark hair forest, his blue eye…

The Tornado

By Rebekah Bergman

It was a bright, gray day with no breeze, and she had just finished digging a grave. She’d woken that…

Salve

By Alexandra Matthews

Bette was stirring her coffee when she saw the postcard, tucked between a large print arthritis monthly and debt consolidation…

Ants

By Kara Vernor

Maggie has clouds for eyes. Also, she barely talks. Other kids have asked her how those clouds got stuck there,…

In Which I Learn Something from Something, At Last

By Nuala O'Connor

I was the one who took the photograph of the princess with her toes in the mouth of a man…

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