Short Story: Claire’s “Pandemic”
Pandemic by Claire Matturro The last man on stage Struts and frets as he exits. From a tree, a wren Sings “Ode to Joy” as a rose Opens to the sun.
Pandemic by Claire Matturro The last man on stage Struts and frets as he exits. From a tree, a wren Sings “Ode to Joy” as a rose Opens to the sun.
by Jessica Dall Lisbon: 1755 In the quick break before the next round of bodies arrived, John rubbed his shoulder. He had worked with worse injuries, but somehow this one was paining him worse than
by Deborah L. King Robert Bryant stopped in his tracks as white fog suddenly clouded his view. “Do you wish to continue walking?” the gender-neutral voice at his ear asked. Robert touched the tiny button
By Brian S. Leon Chapter i Tyre, Phoenicia, 1232 BC As the sun began to set on a pleasant summer’s evening, the sailors made the squat hippoi ship–named for its horse-head masthead–secure at its moorings within the
Coming August 2023 Julie Mercer donated her eggs to help her brother and sister-in-law conceive via in-vitro fertilization, never expecting a few years later, she would have to take full responsibility for those children after
by Erica Lucke Dean I stepped through the door and froze. Over the past several years, I’d spent countless hours in this place—every Tuesday night, pre-pandemic, to be precise—but suddenly, I was unsure of where
Grace through Fire by Jessica Berg is on sale June 13th – June 16th for only $0.99. During a buffalo photo shoot, wildlife photographer Nikki Lancaster snaps a picture of an odd man who later follows
by Sheri Langer “It’s a boy! Ten pounds, six ounces.” A brief pause before the cry that would punctuate the beginning of their life as a family. Ah, there it was. Strong, insistent, and seemingly
by Marlene Adelstein The rental casita that Jesse had found on-line turned out to be perfect. It was furnished, took dogs, and was only a short walk to the old town square. She had put
by Stefanie Spangler “There’s a call for you, dear,” Karen called over the partition that separated Ivy’s desk from the reception area. “Line One.” Who would be calling me directly? Ivy looked down at the