Amelia Flew Home – by STEVE CARR

AMELIA FLEW HOME by Steve Carr Her feet; those elephantine, calloused, dry, mop-water-dirtied appendages, lifted from the ground, raising that bloated, overworked, undersexed, unappreciated body into the air where she momentarily hovered like a bewildered wounded butterfly unable to flutter its wings. Pushed by a foul smelling breeze that came in through the open kitchen…

More – by NICK BLACK

MORE He holds a crisp new fiver between his fingers. “No,” I say, encouraged by the sweat on his top lip. “More.” He sighs and parts his wallet again. “I’ve only got a twenty,” he says. “Have you got change?” “I’ll take the twenty,” I say. “And the five.” Since The Incident At Svetlana’s BBQ,…

Lunch with Maurice – by MICHAEL ZONE

Lunch with Maurice By Michael Zone     I was doing time at the Aqua-Cola warehouse.   My eleventh W2 in my factotum year facing eviction and total starvation.   Maurice, a pudding formed figure with a handlebar mustache, sat across from me during lunch.   A half hour ordeal of me trying to eat…

Love’s Wrong Turn / Winter Made the Trees Suffer – by PEGGY TURNBULL

Love’s Wrong Turn   She seeks portals places prone to wormholes where time travelers shift between planes. She seeks answers in objects touched by geniuses. She trudges across airports to end up gazing at Hemingway’s  desk. or at an animal skull on O’Keeffe’s hearth. She longs for a molecule from the other worlds that great…

Kaleidoscope – by PHILLIP WENTURINE

Kaleidoscope By: Phillip Wenturine “We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.”  – Abraham Lincoln   Envision blackness. Stagnant, trapped, immobile. Imagine clawing your way out of your body. A spirit cemented inside a physical habitat—helpless to the mercy of bodily transportation. Escape yourself. Channel your natural energies….

The Basket – by SOPHIE VAN LLEWYN

The Basket A loose straw pinches the tender flesh between my nail and the tip of my middle finger. I hesitate, unsure if I should withdraw my hand or if I should let the pain linger for a bit longer. I am unloading the basket my husband had received from the bone marrow society as…

Muesli – by KATE JONES

Muesli After you leave, I sit and stare out of my rain-dotted window, that used to be our window.  I stare out at the red-brick buildings.  I watch the raindrops drip from the telephone wires like the tears of jilted lovers. I stare into the windows of the apartments opposite, at the contemporary kitchenware and…

Double Trouble – by VOIMA OY

Double Trouble Doubles were supposed to make things easier, weren’t they? The truth is complicated. Jack and Jeri were the perfect couple, but that’s not so surprising. They were compatible even on a molecular level. What is surprising is that they were not happy. They wanted more time together. Jack’s job as a data miner…

The Wish – by JAE MAZER

The Wish                 Warmth. Wet and gritty, pooled beneath my fluttering eyelids. I opened my eyes and the heat flowed out, trickling down my cheeks and soaking my shirt. I grazed the dampness with my fingertips, then held my hand in front of my face. Shimmering crimson stained the tips of my pallid fingers,…

What If You Need A Pen? – by C R SMITH

What If You Need A Pen? It will be different this year. The words scream out from the very first page of my journal — my hopes for the future writ large. But who was I kidding, this is the last day of the year and it has turned out to be like every other….

Me and Karen – by BENJAMIN FINATERI

Me and Karen I have intrusive thoughts of jumping in front of a train. I take a step back. Take two. I listen to the Carpenters. Karen, my Beloved. Her voice soothes me, more than sex, drugs, or any friend can.   At the supermarket, I like putting my hand in the coffee grinder as…

Job Creation – by KATE BRADLEY-FERRALL

JOB CREATION   HER: How’s the grilled cheese?   HIM: Fine.   HER: And the wine?   HIM: Also fine.   HER: Good.   HIM: So, what do you want?   HER: What do you mean, what do I want?   HIM: I mean, what do you want? You never cook dinner unless you want…