by Jessica Grene Niamh’s arms were around me, her body a small ball curved into mine, like she used to be as a baby. She sobbed so that her whole body juddered, and I felt how slight she was, the fragile width of her rib cage. My baby. Only fourteen. It was unreal. I still … Continue reading Niamh

Not Long Now

by May Belle Inksmith I blink my eyes slowly. I rub my eyes and see the ceiling. Same as ever. As I start to wake up, I glance at my calendar. The date today is my birthday, isn't it? I peer around the room. No different today either: one room, one door, a clock, and … Continue reading Not Long Now


by Bill Cox I watch the Caesium atoms oscillate, counting the cycles of radiation as the atoms transition between energy levels. As I approach a count of nine billion, I know the moment is near. In the gap between yoctoseconds I delve into my deep memory stores. It is some time since I have reached … Continue reading Fireworks

Coffee Shop

by Joseph S. Pete Ben realized he was old when he no longer felt like lingering in the hipster coffee shop, despite the dulcet indie rock being pumped in. The song slapped. He’d be humming it for hours, playing it on loop in his head for even longer. But he felt uncomfortable and asked for his whiskey … Continue reading Coffee Shop

Drying on the Vine

by Dawn DeBraal The dryer stopped its hypnotic tumbling.  Opening the door, I let the clothes spill into the basket on wheels. Being a cold November day, I relished the heat they radiated.   Pulling the basket over to the folding table, I began the process in the Laundromat of folding and sorting my clothes into … Continue reading Drying on the Vine

The Sip-Lefts

by John Alexander They were winding down a quiet weekend evening at home, working their way through both a bottle of chardonnay and their seventh time watching “Inglorious Bastards,” when she paused the show and headed off to the bathroom. He sat there and waited, sipping on what amounted to an empty tumbler, then reached over … Continue reading The Sip-Lefts


by Bill Cox “It’s been four days.” I looked into the eyes of the Spanish police officer across from me. “Can you give us any guidance on where you were walking?” I couldn’t. The walk had been unplanned, an afternoon’s jaunt out into the National Park. We didn’t even take a map with us. I’d … Continue reading Sacrifices