Two years ago, in the pocket of time between Thanksgiving and the onslaught of holiday chaos, I spent a week with my grandmother, Mimi, at her home on St. Simons Island. She had been feeling a little off—her words, not mine—and welcomed the company. Under her astute and vigilant direction, I cooked her favorite dinners, recorded a podcast episode about her life, and rubbed her feet while we watched TV procedurals in the evenings. Mostly, she rested. But on Thursday she got antsy. She wanted to go out to dinner. So we did. We ended … Continue reading Talk To Strangers by Bree Luck→
In June of 2007, I watched the movie Once with you. We’d rented the DVD from Blockbuster, the way people did then. We were twenty-one, so dinner meant sharing a bag of corn chips, drinking Coronas, and sitting on that funky old couch I bought cheap at an estate sale. That was back when we were still a couple living together in Seattle, and we’d only ever been with each other, and we loved each other, but we wondered what else was out there. And in the movie Once, two musicians meet in Dublin, a … Continue reading Mulioo Tebe by Clare Rolens→
My writing mantra used to be, Fine is good enough. I made sure whatever I sent out was the best it could be. However, I worked fulltime and was the primary caretaker for three children. When I finished a manuscript, I checked for issues, then hit “send” before anyone came down with croup, required a ride to music lessons, or needed four zillion forms signed. I never lingered at the finish line, which meant some manuscripts went out not quite fully polished. You’ve heard of the tyranny of the urgent? Those years, I happened to … Continue reading Don’t Arrive Before You Get There by Deborah M. Prum→
The spirit room is cold, not morgue-cold but goosebump chilly from October on. Maddie zips her hoodie and pulls the under-desk heater dangerously close to the soles of her dying Nikes. There’s a hole forming above her big, left toe and if she smells melting rubber, there will be a bigger hole in her budget. New shoes will have to get in line. The positions she had tried for, production artist, illustrator, assistant gallery curator, never materialized, and she’s stuck in the basement of the Sabine River precinct as a bottom-dwelling, part-time police sketch artist, … Continue reading The Spirit Room by Claire Massey→
After lunch, Donald’s art dealer, Regina Slabokoff, entered his office in a state of agitated grace. Donald’s office had a style—a Mojo style—created by the great man himself. Mojo believed in comfort and security, and for Donald he had designed a desk in which his client could sit in its middle, as though in the center of a round doughnut. By pressing a button, foam panels rose and enveloped the sitter who then had the feeling of being back in the womb. It could also be used as a couch for afternoon siestas, thus eliminating … Continue reading The Art of the Dealer by Eric Lande→
The appointment was made for five-thirty so my wife Polly and I could both be there. She worked in an office in town and I was working from home then. But my work had been slow so I really wasn’t doing much of anything at work, and when I was awoken by a knock at the front door I sat up on the couch and looked at the clock and saw that it was a quarter to five. When I opened the door an overweight man in his sixties, wearing a white dress shirt … Continue reading Hard Water by S. E. Wilson→
Coming down from the redwood forest, where majestic trees defy rusted Coke signs and dead gas stations, we drive, curve after curve, in daylight darkness, with flashes of sunlight through the deep green. Then the dream fades as the landscape diminishes into dry grasses, straighter roads, and the offer of something to eat somewhere you wouldn’t want to go. An exit sign emerges, “Ferndale,” and I remember hearing about a hidden Victorian village. So we turn off the main road because that often seems like the right thing to do. But there is no immediate … Continue reading Lily is Safe by Elisa Wood→
9 a.m. ‘M’ comes out of his flat. I see his head first, coming up the basement steps. He needs a haircut. And he’s wearing the same shirt he had on yesterday. He’s let things slide. The way he’s standing, tapping the pavement with his cane and moving his weight back and forwards, either he’s in pain or he can’t make his mind up whether to go left or right. Sometimes when he just stands there, I know it’s because he senses someone watching him. Once, I was concentrating on a patch of leg … Continue reading Ground Zero by Lynn Bushell→
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash. I. a. This morning, I saw a creature standing in the road. The size of a small dog with rust-colored fur. But even from a distance, I could see electricity shuddering just beneath its skin. A taut wildness that disappears with domesticity. b. For years now, I’ve lived in the West, in places that once were desert. Where the air is dry, and the bugs are few and no one cares quite so much if you graduated from one of the Ivies. Sometimes, I return East in August and … Continue reading Fragments From Returning to the Suburban Neighborhood of My Youth by Sharon Gelman→
The fear of losing you torments me. Krenshaw’s roommate, Annie Alessandra, was dating Tommy Stalwart. Krenshaw had introduced them a few months back and it seemed like things were going well. Krenshaw was happy for them. But she was also sad. Seeing the two of them together reminded her of what she used to have with Memphis Jericho. Krenshaw had fallen for Memphis after dating him for a few months. Then, he broke up with her, saying he wasn’t as physically attracted to Krenshaw as he hoped he’d be. Krenshaw was confused by this. She … Continue reading Krenshaw and the Tale of Memphis by Karys Rhea→
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