Story Archives

| By Alan Rossi

[ June 6, 2022 ]

Until All That Was Left Was the Present

Allison was wedged between the baby and her husband, Jacob, both asleep, both quietly snoring, the baby making small, piglet-like noises. Their faces, fuzzed by the darkness, were similarly childlike. For the first several days in the new house, the type of house they had casually and reasonably dreamed of for so long – an …

| By Matthew Pitt

[ Issue Issue #14 ]

Everything Bagel

“Can’t you try remembering, Everything?” Milly’s head tilts with her question; a bottlecap that won’t lock on its threads. We’re comparing true loves—one I lost back when, one she’s savoring now—and she suspects I’m stonewalling her over the reasons mine was star-crossed from the start. Well, sure. But Milly and I have, against all odds, …

| By Macey Phillips

[ Issue Issue #14 ]

Tunnel Vision

There is a man sitting on a bench in the sun. He watches a woman on hot pink roller skates stumble around the tennis court beside the bench. He has just been fired from his job as a radiation physicist. He fixes radiation machines—or did, anyways. He recalibrated them to make sure they beamed the …

, | By Ciera Horton McElroy

[ Issue Issue #14 ]

The Faith Healer

We don’t know why he came. Ours is not a big city. There are no stadiums, no conference centers, no airport hotels to fill with hosannas. Instead, he has a folding chair at the farmer’s market. Behind him rests a banana crate, handpainted. Miracles $10. He does not look like a faith healer. As we …

| By Jared Lemus

[ Issue Issue #14 ]

So Long to the Rearview

The next curve is a tricky one. Too much pressure on the gas and the van could tip. Not enough, and the truck a cigarette-length from your fender will send you flying cliffside. Or worse, they’ll overtake you ‘round the blind corner. This happens, and your regulars will click their tongues and say each second …

| By Blake Johnson

[ Issue Issue #14 ]


The free health clinic had closed, and our anxieties were piling up, so Frankin and I had no choice but to try our luck near the pill mill that afternoon. The plan was to mug some unlucky individual, then sell the spoils so we could each afford a doctor’s visit. “In all probability,” Frankin had …

| By Laura Venita Green

[ Issue Issue #14 ]


The Thompson kids’ dad sold the black walnut trees behind their house for timber and now clusters of big sad stumps spoiled the backyard. Tess was living with and caring for the kids—ten-year-old Miles and eight-year-old Minnie—while the Thompson mom recovered in some facility for broken-down women and the Thompson dad drove a long-haul truck …

| By Marya Brennan

[ Issue Issue #14 ]

How Lovely To Be Made of Wax

It was a patient, Mr. Clayton, who told Nell about the Traveling Hall of Wax, while at her office to replace a cracked molar. After measuring the gap and gluing in a temporary crown, Dr. Klein left Nell to clean up. “Spit,” she said. Mr. Clayton spit. “You know Taylor Swift? I mean, I know …

| By Je Banach

[ Issue Issue #14 ]

Big Bird

Emma had never really considered her body, or rather, its temporality before. Illness was a little-thought-of inconvenience, something that came and then went, a brief interruption that required little in the way of meditation. A more formidable opponent as one grew old, perhaps, but that was a long way off. Illness had nothing to do …

| By Barbara Sutton

[ Issue Issue #13 ]


The crows started fighting early that morning. Their sawmill-keyed rants from a nearby tree made it impossible to continue sleeping, but I refused to open my eyes. I lie in bed watching as the white letters C-R-O-W-S appeared singly before a sea of black feathers, the opening credits of a scratchy Super 8. In this …