Dear Confidence by Matthew J. Hall
Confidence, you are the ultimate trickster. Your bright light is a dangerous fire. How do you decide where to set up home? Why do you laugh and celebrate foolishness with the saddest…
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Issue #1
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My Mannequin and I by Matthew J. Hall
We watched TV on the love seat together the bottle seemed to go down smooth and fast but I don't think she touched a drop. She is the silent type, doesn't laugh…
What Is That Song? by Terry Barr
Love is like a sin my love For the ones that feel it the most/Look at her with her eyes like a flame/She will love you like a fly will never love…
Gone For Good by Ken L. Jones
A blue bird too big to fit On the homemade Sunflower pregnant feeder Outside my hospital window Lands claws first Like the Velociraptor Who he has supposedly been Shrunk in size from…
True To My Memory by Ken L. Jones
On a day ground fine as if in a mortar and pestle The marsh flat’s skies became a crumbling circus A hand painted fresco you can almost taste A bottomless barrel of…
Chicken Taco Soup by Trish Laubacker
Soup: 1/2 small can tomato paste 1 (14.5 oz.) can diced spicy red pepper tomatoes 1 large potato, peeled and chunked 1 zucchini, chunked 1/2 white onion, diced 1 small jalapeno pepper…
Running to and from Georgia for You by Louise Matsakis
And I kept the windows open, Unwisely and desperately, attempting to replace your sighs with the dull noise of my car as it pulled through the air of the sweating Appalachian night.…
Driving Lessons by John Grey
First time my hands touched a steering wheel, they froze and sweated all at the same time. My knees buckled. The air in my chest played hopscotch on my lungs. A college…
The Low School That Was High School by John Grey
There was the teacher who constantly scratched his pendulous chin and the other who taught the rigid rules of math with the vagaries of a facial twitch. Also, there was the thin…
The End of the World as Ben Knows It by John Grey
The kids are shooting BB guns at a tin can on a fence again. The old man is jumping up and down in his parlor, rattling the furniture. The woman's tears are…
The Clumsy Juggler’s Junk Drawer by Alan Gann
I can explain queen and jack of hearts missing from harlequin deck warranty cards filled out with misplaced intentions buttons never sewn back on coffee-stained application to Barnum & Bailey school ruby…
The Last Day of March by Alan Gann
I woke with an unfettered morning dressed in a long-sleeved t-shirt and my old blue jeans laced boots, grabbed binoculars and headed for the park just like I had done so many…
My Semester in New York City by Alan Gann
Mama didn’t just up and die when she found out I was sharing an efficiency with a black lesbian named Djimbe Skyy. Skipped Renaissance Ensemble to watch lightning strikes over Central Park,…
Waiting for the Traffic Light to Change by J. J. Steinfeld
I have to change my downward moving life before there's nothing left worth changing, Boyd thought, then whispered the words to himself and to the ten other people standing near him as…
Crossing the North Quad by Alan Gann
She walks across the lawn, a smooth glimpse casually given teenage cotton and tan lines exchanged for a live beat. Tonight after she swallows her last bite of pizza she’ll tell roommates…
10 Reasons Living in Hawaii Is Cheaper Than You Think!
1. The islands themselves are filled with free things to do. There are expensive tourist traps everywhere in Hawaii, but the locals know how to have fun for free. There are flea…
Wanting to Untarnish the Past by J. J. Steinfeld
A year after his rancorous divorce from Louise, Royce called his ex-wife and argued it should be considered an anniversary of sorts, to be celebrated open-heartedly, and she agreed but not without…
An Inexplicable Whisper by J. J. Steinfeld
I was looking at a tiny insect crawling along the floor at my feet, attempting to recall when I was first brought to this room and forced to sit on this old…
Son of a Bitch by J.D. Isip
Five dollars, mama, he’d say and, because it was cheaper than wondering why, you gave it. Then ten. Then twenty. I did the best I could, you’d say and, because that seemed…
Creativity, or, None the Existential Less by J. J. Steinfeld
Morning, lousy weather out of coffee, computer on the blink, none the existential less consciousness prevails and it’s story-writing time synapses and psyche insist the momentum of being does not take no…