Fiction

By T.J. Seefeldt The man had a job to do. He just couldn’t remember exactly what it was. He looked up from the bed in

By CB Anderson Every day at lunchtime Sean paddles upriver, pulling against the current until his mind is sky and white-capped water. The precarity suits

By Ellis Shuman “Tough crowd tonight.” “You can’t win them all,” Mac said, slumping into a chair at the side of the club. “Some of

By Emily Weedon, She lived in Laaksolahti and hated it. She hated the suburban, fussy strangled feel to the place. Dirt roads, for Crissakes, and

By Christopher Allen Nonna changed after her kitten was eaten. We all did, more or less. But the little fur ball was her greatest friend.

By Bethany Browning Mother died cracking her neck. Balled her fist, positioned it under her chin and pushed sharply to the left. The hyperextension snapped

By Michael Zamzow They say rock climbing is about facing death, but I’m not sure. Perhaps when I began, I would have made that claim

By James Cortese Childhood—here’s what I hated about it. I hated the way you had to be like everyone else. Hated the way you had

By Ivan Baidak I feel that otherness is inside us—in what we think about, in what we consider important, in how we treat people around