Almost There

By Pamela Painter

He hands me a place card, high rag-content, from our glittering table with someone else’s name in calligraphy so elegant…

All False Starts

By Pamela Painter

That the dog didn’t bark was the first sign.  Who acts like that, who, tell me who acts like that…

5 Greek Refusals: A micro series

By Matt Bell

Because the princess was dying of love for the suitor, the suitor who was so athletic and so strong, the…

DARK: Four micros

By Tara Isabel Zambrano

Living so closely When the girl falls off a cliff, a few people hear a shriek, see a black dot…

We Smoke

By Sarah Freligh

We smoke because the nuns say we shouldn’t—he-man Marlboros or Salems, slender and meadow fresh, over cups of thin coffee…

Tiger Free Days

By DeMisty Bellinger

The telephone poles looked like crucifixes. I had the time to contemplate them, and that was how silent it was.…


By Stuart Dybek

In summer, waiting for night, we’d pose against the afterglow on corners, watching traffic cruise through the neighborhood. Sometimes, a…


By Tara Laskowski

It was 10th grade, the year of Hurricane Isaac, which mowed down the mighty oak in the teacher’s parking lot,…

Metalhead’s Pledge

By W. Todd Kaneko

From the rear wall, Metalhead looks at the back of a girl’s head in History class. She is the only…

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