Fiction

By Derek Alan Jones The work was nearly done. As he turned the crown to wind the spring, each click of the ratchet wheel was

By Stephen James, “Write me a story in the style of Hemingway.” I watch the middle-aged man in the tailored suit with disdain as he

By Peter Lavin, Even after six months of ownership Mick Moneypenny still took pleasure in opening the door of his BMW. It swung smoothly and

By Bethany Browning, The boredom was real. The chatter in my mind was a scurry of chipmunks, running one self-destructive idea after another through every

By Jowita Bydlowska He looked exactly the same as he did on the Apps, in the picture with the baseball hat. He ordered a slice

By Luke Beling, Father Sampson took me in after I passed out on the curb near his church. He let me use his shower and

By Danila Botha, I can still see myself standing there, the small, reused brown box in my open palm. My mom had to remind me

By Kirsten Smith “Kindness. Compassion. Humanity.” Cherry had written Rand’s words in green permanent marker on a hot pink sticky note during her Support Agent

By Leah Lax, Abraham woke early one morning, saddled his donkey himself (not a job to delegate, this sacrifice), and tied a bundle of kindling