Contributor: Christi Shin - - Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. The rain hit the car heavily but that didn’t matter to the two situated in the car. The bass boomed loudly, vibrating the car parked in front of the quiet suburban home community. Warm hazel eyes met softly with deep emerald orbs and dark caramel fingers traced down the well-built firm peach chest hidden by a white cotton dress shirt. Ebony curly tresses gently tickled ivory skin and large firm hands moved to hold onto the small caramel frame above his chest. The deep R&B beat gently vibrated the seat under the couple as their lips pressed together, both eyes closing as the rhythmic song filled their ear drums. “You just gotta let my love, let my love, let my love adorn you,” His deep velvet voice sung against her lips, the two smiling against each other,...

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Author: Christi Shin

Contributor: Khadijah Holgate - - “Have you spoken to your father lately Teresa?” Miranda asked her daughter. “Nope, and I don’t plan on it.” She replied. “Well, he keeps writing you these letters.” She looked down at the bundle of letters resting on the kitchen counter. “I think you should read at least one of them.” Miranda said with worry. “Why should I? We haven’t spoken in years and now all of a sudden he wants to write me letters? Who writes letters anymore?” “Give him a chance Teresa, he’s trying to reconnect with you.” “Why are you defending him? He broke both of our hearts and I’m just supposed to move on from that?” Teresa questioned with anger. “If you are ready to forgive him, that’s fine but I’m not.” “He really misses you.” “Are we done with this conversation?” “Look, when you forgive someone you aren’t doing it for...

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Author: Khadijah Holgate

Contributor: William Gray Tait - - I call out into the chaos one more time your name. Yet there will be no answer. There never is anymore. This endless day has turned eternal. It hardly feels real. On so many other evenings we would argue and fight late into the early morning hours and then make love afterwards. It was a ritual of sorts, a dance, a synergy, only we understood. And in those moments we would achieve a perfectly symmetrical relationship of angst and anger, where I would wait until that passion, that fire burning in your veins would swell up and push through, melting away the ice built up in your heart. But in the end, at least what we had was real. I know your pain was. I told myself we were better for what we went through. It bound us closer. And to be fair, for all the bad times shared, there were just as many moments...

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Author: William Gray Tait

Contributor: David A Moody - - There is a desk and a chair that do little to cover the nakedness of the room. A body, frail and brittle as the old wallpaper, sits at the desk with bad posture—he often corrects himself and straightens his spine, only to give in to distraction and allow it to curve again. His world is silent and possesses all the charm of a beloved pet in pieces on a roadway. Occasionally, the wind rattles his windows and reminds him of his ghosts too disinterested to haunt him. Then she arrives. She spills from his mind and leaks down his spine until he can feel her throughout his entire body. Her colors stain his skin a spectral shade of white so dull it glows. She stops at the country store between his heart and ambition to purchase a roadmap of his veins. She wants to see the sights and enjoy the rural fare. She’s...

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Author: David A Moody

Contributor: Donal Mahoney - - Tea in the afternoon with his wife of many years is usually peaceful, Hubert thinks before he makes his announcement. Then he says it. "I'm going upstairs," Hubert tells Ruth as he hoists himself out of his old recliner, "and if I don't ever come back down it's because you want to fly to Rome before we die so we can meet Pope Francis. Fat chance of that happening! You think the pope takes walks in St. Peter's Square?" "Well, why shouldn't we go," Ruth says. "We may be old but we're still healthy and seeing Rome might be nice. Pope Francis seems like a pretty nice guy." "Getting old is bad enough," Hubert says, "but why complicate matters with a trip to Rome? We'd have to pull out visas and passports and we'd have TSA agents--total strangers--patting us down in nooks reserved for a doctor or spouse. Besides,...

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Author: Donal Mahoney

Contributor: Elliot Richard Dorfman - - In his sleep, Paul McCue heard someone knocking at his front door, but upon wakening, the house was quiet. Getting off the bed on this cold February morning of his sixtieth birthday, he looked out of the window. The grounds were beginning to be covered with the falling snow. Whenever the weather was like this, he felt aches throughout his back and feet. Well, at least today was Saturday and the accounting firm he worked for was closed. Quickly dressing, he went into the kitchen of his well-maintained ranch house that was located in the small town of Mayfield, New York. After feeding Scruffy, his little black dog, he made himself two pieces of toast and a pot of coffee. Eating, the thought of his wife leaving him two weeks ago hit him and he sighed. “It’s been rough trying to adjust my life...

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Author: Elliot Richard Dorfman

Contributor: Misti Rainwater-Lites - - The deer was definitely dead and the car was definitely fucked up but I was alive, somehow, so I walked through the warm breath of the Texas hill country night not thinking of anything, just looking up at the stars and smiling like an idiot, thankful for the random adventure. I didn't have a phone anymore but I also didn't have a boyfriend, hadn't had one in months, so I was free. No one knew where I was or wasn't. No one gave a fuck. I was glad. I walked alongside the two-lane highway. I was maybe five miles from home. I've never been good with numbers. There wasn't any neon or greasy fast food smells assaulting me. I knew there were animals behind the trees. More deer, for example. Maybe the deer were plotting revenge against me for killing one of their own. If I had died instead of the deer...

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Author: Misti Rainwater-Lites

Contributor: Dan Slaten - - It is a perfect day. The sun is shining, but it’s not too hot. A slight breeze is in the air. I’m sitting outside a café, and across the table is the girl I love with all my heart. She’s wearing sunglasses, and she looks oh so cool, like a model or a movie star. I sip my tea as she talks. It’s perfect, just like this day. Sweet, but not too sweet. Cool, but not too cool. Her voice is like music. She says she doesn’t like the way it sounds, but I like it so much I could listen to her read the phone book. Sometimes she sings, and even though she can barely carry a tune, I love to listen to her. I don’t think she knows this, but how can I tell her? She wouldn’t do it anymore if I told her. I am going to tell her, I decide. I’m going to tell her how I feel about her. How could I not on a perfect day like...

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Author: Dan Slaten

Contributor: Donal Mahoney - - Wally Anderson, father of three daughters, was not pleased after reading an email from Shelly, his eldest, a week before Father's Day. He thought she might be coming to visit for the holiday. Instead Shelly told him of her sudden wedding to a man he did not know. A Google search told him that her new husband had two names and that he had married Shelly under the most recent one. However, Google also said his new son-in-law had a good job and apparently leads a respectable life. The wedding had taken place on an island in the Pacific. The ceremony had been conducted by one of an indigenous chieftain under a gigantic coconut tree. Shelly had studied anthropology in college with an emphasis on indigenous peoples so Wally understood why she might choose to marry in that environment. But the more Wally read about...

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Author: Donal Mahoney

Contributor: Eric Suhem - - “They are so disturbing,” Lottie said to Sol when they were both 14 years old, rejecting his footsie advances, and staring at his toes, which she found strangely misshapen. It was a comment that would stick with Sol for years, causing him to develop a complex about his feet, for which he would compensate via career achievement as a podiatrist. After years of study, Sol received numerous degrees related to the foot, and started a successful practice. To advertise, he had a large electric toe sign set up near the medical building in which he worked. After a typical day seeing patients work he’d sit alone in his office to do research, but instead dwelled upon the girl from his childhood who’d said his toes were disturbing, as the electric toe blinked on and off, casting a reddish light. Lottie, meanwhile,...

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Author: Eric Suhem

Contributor: Elizabeth Brown - - Gula said she was a ghost. It was the last two weeks of summer. “So how did you die?” I asked. We were sitting under a willow tree in the pasture, making a list of supplies we needed for our hideout. The sun blazed like a scourge. “I climbed out the window.” “And then what?” I asked. “I crawled over to the edge and slipped off.” “What did it feel like?” “It was like floating.” “So are you an angel now?” “I can’t say. Not allowed.” We shook our heads, chuckled. The sun moved behind a cloud. A crow cawed in the distance. Katydids chirped. A mother called a child home. We lived on Sigourney Drive, all three of us—Gula, Trey and me. We clung to each other like timid mice, convinced terrorists were invading soon. Trey was the only boy. But we never thought about that. He seemed like one of us, until he...

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Author: Elizabeth Brown

Contributor: Reese Scott - - At night the sermons would begin. As I lay in bed and listened, I was unable to locate where the sermons were coming from. I did know they were close. One night I went outside to see if I could find out. I followed the voices through the back gates of homes, made sure the dogs didn’t start barking to wake up anyone, until finally a few miles away I came to a place in the forest that was much darker. The Moon was out and it gave some light to the darkness everywhere else. But here it was as though the Moon’s light was not allowed. As I walked closer, I could see shapes of bodies through the trees. I didn’t feel nervous but at the same time I didn’t feel safe. As I crouched below a large bush I could barely make out the figures. There was a fire and most of the people were just sitting around drinking tea...

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Author: Reese Scott

Contributor: Victoria Elizabeth - - He worked 70, 80 hours per week, but never missed a track meet. He grew a beard overnight, yet he was the one who braided my hair every morning. He held me when I cried, succumbed to my puppy eyes, and believed the lies I would weave about unfinished homework and missed curfews. I knew if my mother said no, my father would say yes. She always said no. He always said yes. Yes. Affirmation was our language, a shared secret. He was my mountain, the foundation on which I built my childhood. Under my father’s approval, I casually drank my first beer as a teenager. With my father’s encouragement, I spent my afternoons in a shithole bar playing pool until the smoke burned my eyes and my hair smelled like ash. With my father’s unspoken consent, I learned to hate my mother. An affair turned serious...

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Author: Victoria Elizabeth

Contributor: Egbert Starr - - Some of the losers looked around and saw the other losers. They had all lost. And they had all lost, and been losing for a long time. Once, for sure, they had all begun as all begin: like small, hairless, practically featherless birds begin cracked open in their springtime shells, practically pretty much the same. Now some had beards, and others had hand-me-up-skirts that girls half their age could wear with aplomb. But these? Like Mennonites that were not Mennonites, like young girls who were old. They continued to plug into electrical sockets where the electricity was free, and, like me, kept spending down the principal of their meager inheritances until they were dead or there was nothing left. Awful things were overheard: glassy-eyed conversation between two look-alike chaps over "Garamond" or something...

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Author: Egbert Starr

Contributor: Shannon Yule - - The skies were grey, the sea was rough, all in all it was perfect weather. Perfect weather for John McCook, captain of a small fishing boat named Indigo Rose. He was out looking for his latest catch, Tuna; he wasn’t after anything record breaking, just something big enough to sell to support himself. He wasn’t going to lie to himself though, he was out for more than just fishing; he was out because the ocean was the only place that he felt at home. He had never really felt right ever since his wife had died three years ago. It was a normal day, just like any other, he was home from fishing, and his wife was in the kitchen making dinner. He had just kicked back and turned the television on when he heard a huge crash from the kitchen. He ran into the kitchen and found his wife unconscious and on the floor....

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Author: Shannon Yule

Contributor: Reese Scott - - While his mother went next door, he was in charge of watching his little sister in the bath. She was maybe over a year now. He wasn’t sure. He had a small piece of paper by his knee. It was a short list of what he was to do and not to do. 1. If she starts to cry or if anything happens just call the neighbors. The number is on the bottom of the page. 2. If she starts to get upset or if anything out of the ordinary happens call the number on the bottom of the page. 3. If you feel nervous call the number on the bottom of the page. He sat on the floor. He put his hand in the bath. The water felt nice. His sister was staring down at her feet. She looked up at him and smiled. The smile looked like any other smile. He imagined he could hear other little feet running up and down the stairs, running...

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Author: Reese Scott