Contributor: Dan Slaten - - Tim looked at the message one last time before clicking send. He’d read and reread the words so many times that they no longer made sense, but he still wanted to give it one more look before sending it to CrazyHotCoolGirl29. You could never be too careful or too thorough in matters of the heart, even when those matters were as trivial as an introductory message on an internet dating site. Deciding he was as satisfied by the message as he was ever going to be, Tim clicked “send.” Minutes later, Tim heard a girl laughing hysterically one table over. “Karen, you have to check this out,” said the girl. “Look at this message I just got from TimTime2000. Check out his profile – and his pictures. What a loser!” “You sound really interesting,” said the girl Tim assumed must be Karen. She seemed to be mimicking...

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Author: Dan Slaten

Contributor: RD Wood - - There is a man who leaves for work each day, or so his wife and children think. He lost his job as a salesman at the insurance company on October 19th 1987 and has sat in the park ever since. The most painful hour of his day is the one before the park opens when he must wait in line with men he considers inelegant and gruff, ‘uncouth’ if he knew the word. His wife sometimes comments that his clothes never seem to grow old but he does not tell her that this is because he folds them away and does not work, that he sits all but naked in the park all day, always at the same place, which is a five minute walk from his old office and between the forgotten general who sits atop his horse with sword drawn and the poet with a frown and a book opened out. After several years of this routine while on a school excursion...

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Author: RD Wood

Contributor: Ava Wilson - - “You think he’ll be mad, Chris?” “Course he will. We didn’t mean to be late though. Couldn’t be helped.” “Yeah, he’s upset alright. Just washed the Caddy this morning, now it’s raining,” said Carl. Chris pushed his matted hair off his forehead. Carl hunched further down behind a thorny rosebush. “Why do you think he parked on this side of the street and not the driveway?” “Don’t know,” said Chris. “He whipped us something fierce last time we were late, the Caddy wasn’t even wet that night.” “Yeah. I know numb nuts, I was there, too.” “Think he loves that old car more than us, Chris?” “Yep. Now shut your pie hole so we can sneak in.” Chris looked from side to side. His clothes drenched, shoes squishing rain. “If we stay low,” said Chris, “we can dodge the streetlights and sneak by the neighbor lady. She...

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Author: Ava Wilson

Contributor: Kenzie Cluster - - I arrived a few hours ago while it was raining. We came all the way from Las Vegas, and drove for two days straight to get back to Portland. The gaslight had come on six times: all remaining change was scraped from the ashtray and the sticky floorboards until there was no way to keep going. My driver punched my dashboard three times before exiting and slamming my door. I had watched him walk into the darkness, cursing loudly, without a second glance behind him to reassure me he would be back soon. Since the rain stopped, my engine is cold and I am lonely. I miss my driver. I remember when we first met: it was a summer morning, and he came running toward me saying, “That’s her! I saw her in my dream, that Gunship Gray 1969 Ford Fairlane. She’s beautiful.” He’d waited for my last driver to get out of the...

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Author: Kenzie Cluster

Contributor: Donal Mahoney - - Dexter Dalrymple had no idea why anyone would want to interview him. Who would care at this point what he'd have to say. Maybe his family and a few old friends, in deference to his age and wealth, hoping to find themselves in his will some day soon. But he had agreed to this interview and there he was now, at 82, sitting across from this financial reporter, a young lady, perhaps 22, the age of his granddaughter who had just graduated from college. His granddaughter was the light of his life. He would leave all of his money to her if it wouldn't make everyone mad. Dexter knew the only reason this young lady wanted to interview him was that he's worth roughly $5 million, the harvest of over 50 years of investing in the stock market, all on his own, with no advisor. A remarkable achievement, he realized, for...

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Author: Donal Mahoney

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby - - I watch the lavender blossoms drift in wind like soft brushes wet with paint, and I remember my knight. Tall, his jaw set strong, holding a smile beneath sky-blue eyes. I remember his voice, his touch, the press of his lips against my skin-- all strong, so strong. I remember the shine of his armor, the red of his crest, the gold edges of noble filigree vining across steel. I remember it all, and as I remember, the tears bud and run from my eyes. The lavender blossoms that grow over his grave wave like pennants, like lances, and as I hold my heavy belly, quiet my heavy heart, I close my eyes. I close my eyes, and in the caresses of the wind, I can almost feel him, almost feel his touch, his arms, his hands moving slowly over mine. - - - I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love....

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Author: Lyla Sommersby

Contributor: E.S. Wynn - - The moment I slip into the ocean, I know that I am home. I wasn't born here, on Nereid IV-b. The colony is only a few years old, and most of the settlers are early-gen spacers, migrants who've seen a thousand worlds, elected for sterilization centuries ago. It's something else, something I can feel in my blood-- about the planet, the ocean, something I feel like I've been searching for my entire life, trying to get back to. Something about the gravity, the planet's proximity to the three stars that hold it suspended in the most elegant orbit I've ever seen on an inter-system approach, gives it the most placid, most serene seas I've ever seen. Clean and clear, there are no tides or currents in the wide oceans of Nereid IV-b, nothing to wear down the smooth, gray-glassy stone that sprawls on across the bottom...

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Author: E.S. Wynn

Contributor: MJRAFFERTY - - I was rolling along through my life living my dream with my love, and the children of our love beside me. Work seemed like play; all systems clicking in order as they should. Life was good. Then from outside something intervened, insidious and unknown it came undetected, creating a shadow on my soul. Defenses were drawn around me and the strategies of professionals were tested, but to no avail. My tears, and the tears of others flowed. Hope was gone and the taste of fear was like acid in my mouth. The medicine of science took me and all that was left was desperation. Life had dimmed but love swelled, flooding in and over from all sides. The weeks and months passed, but to me there was nothing but light or dark, sleep and not sleep. My speech became a jargon to others; no matter, because the desire to communicate...

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Author: MJRAFFERTY

Contributor: Clive Aaron Gill - - “Base to Lola,” called the San Diego High School Dispatcher on the radio. “Go ahead.” “Lola, please pick up Reuben on Balboa Avenue this morning. Rudy’s bus is down.” “Ten-four. Will do.” “You’ll be half an hour late. His grandmother called him and told him to wait.” “Ten-four.” A look of satisfaction crept into Lola’s blue, penetrating eyes as she thought about the likeable Reuben. Blue jeans hugged her sturdy thighs and a white band drew back her black hair, as smooth as polished ebony, from her forehead. She drove her bus past waves of wild mustard, blossoming vibrant yellow, before she stopped to pick up Reuben, a six-foot, muscular, special needs student. “Good morning, Reuben.” “Morning, Lola. Today’s my birthday,” said Reuben, as he stepped into the bus and gave her a high five. He sat three...

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Author: Clive Aaron Gill

Contributor: Austen Rodgers - - The city, even at night, was alive and functioning. Cars were always on the move and the people were always busy. Busy generating a profit. Busy robbing suburban liquor stores and gas stations. Just too busy trying to live, and too busy to notice the men on the streets. An older gentleman, Jo, as he called himself, was one of those men of the streets. During the day he would spend his time on the sidewalks of downtown Chicago. The windy city, without a fall or a spring, was never comforting. In the summer sun his skin would burn and blister, and in the winter it was a struggle to keep his ligaments safe from the bitter bite of the cold. The weather, just like the city, was pitiless. Sores between his toes caused pain in every one of his steps. They were the result of his water filled boot and his plastic...

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Author: Austen Rodgers

Contributor: Kaila Allison - - It’s the hottest night of the year. Men wipe sweat from lips with hankies. Women fan themselves with brochures. We are young and in New York. A buddy of Miles’ from Philly is performing with his group, a free-form jazz quartet, in an Aikido dojo at 307 East 92nd. We walk up a narrow staircase and Miles cracks the door slowly – not sure we’ve got the right address. But it is, Sensei greets us and tells us please if we didn’t mind taking our shoes off, this is a dojo after all. A slight Asian man holding a beer comes over, tells us his name’s Ken. We all shake hands. Miles says he’s a buddy of Elliot’s from Philly. Not from Philly but he goes to school there, studies jazz guitar. He says, this is my friend Kaila, she’s a writer. Ken smiles. He has nice teeth and he laughs in the right places. He says there’s...

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Author: Kaila Allison

Contributor: Donal Mahoney - - Everyone in the neighborhood was surprised when Bill McIntyre entered the seminary to study for the priesthood. He had been dating girls since early in high school and had been engaged since graduating from college to a lovely young lady. He often spoke about wanting to have a big family since he himself had been an only child. But something happened in that relationship and Bill and his girlfriend broke up. "I always wanted brothers," Bill had told his best friend, Adam Moskowitz. They had played basketball together in high school and had remained close friends, meeting at the local delicatessen every couple of weeks to wolf down corned beef sandwiches, Adam's on rye, Bill's on dark pumpernickel. "At least it's not white bread" is all that Adam would ever say. Adam was studying to become a rabbi. Adam...

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Author: Donal Mahoney

Contributor: Robert Bates - - Michael Johnson sits alone on his bed staring at an old photo of himself and a girl at their senior prom. “You should call her,” his older brother says, walking into the room. “How long were you standing there?” Michael asks suspiciously. “Long enough. Whatever happened to that girl?” “I have no idea. I don’t even know where she is.” “Maybe you should track her down.” “It’s been five years; I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want me back in her life. Anyway, seen any good movies lately?” Michael asks, clearly trying to change the subject. “You should call her,” Matt says persistently. “I’m not going to call her,” Michael says defiantly. “She was your high school sweetheart.” “Was.” “You need to call her.” “I don’t even have her number.” “She could still have the same one.” “I highly doubt it.” “Just try it!” Michael...

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Author: Robert Bates

Contributor: James Babbs - - Out there in the country away from all the lights the night sky littered with countless stars. I held her close to me and felt the pounding of her heart. When I kissed her on the lips and stuck my tongue in her mouth she sucked in her breath and I laughed. I kept trying to tell her how much I loved her but she acted like she didn't understand. I laughed again and pointed at the sky. I told her how fucking crazy it was with all the millions and billions of stars for someone not to believe there was another planet somewhere capable of sustaining intelligent life. Millions and billions of stars I said. That meant billions and trillions of planets. I told her how some of the stars we saw had died eons ago but they were so far away their light was only just now reaching us. It was strange I said. Something...

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Author: James Babbs

Contributor: Reese Scott - - He was born in a hotel. But of course he didn’t know it was a hotel. He didn’t know what a hotel was. He didn’t know what a room or a roof was. It’s difficult to create images without the help of words and since he had none he only went by what he was told. Which was very little. Inside the hotel lived three other people. A young girl close to his age and two people who were older than they were. When the boy and the girl were alone they would talk about the difference between them and the other people. The first thing the young girl said was, “Do they move like that on purpose?” “Like what?” “I don’t know. It looks like they’re always getting up in the morning.” “Maybe they were just getting up.” “That would make sense. But they look that way all the time.” When it got dark they sat down at a table to...

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Author: Reese Scott