Photo Story: The Cold Bullet

By David Drury
The story goes that when bank robber Wells Duluth was shot dead, the bullet came out the other side encased in ice.

Roadkill

By Gary Duncan
She hasn’t been right since she hit the pheasant. It was a sign, she says. Of what, she doesn’t know, but it was definitely a sign.

Bronx

By Natasha Cooke
Our skin seeped into New York’s sod, roots drinking our veins. We tied ourselves over, and he licked my palms. His breath of onsen youth.

First Five Heartbreaks

By Serene Vannoy
My first heartbreak I heard through a wall in a Southern California suburb, after my father the sailor retired, after we thought we'd settled down,

Guilt

By Ruben Adkins
when the fish swallows the hook, the night falls, dragging purple down into the belly of the sea.

PTSD

By Ron Riekki
My girlfriend wipes her makeup off. We just fought. She wipes her face off, skin flapping.

Apocalyptic River

By Fred Muratori
We picnicked by the sullen river, its water brown, opaque and dense enough for starving frogs to flop across.

The White Devil

By Shara Concepción
We watch each other in the blue glow of predawn, limbs entwined. We speak with our eyes: "I grow hair on my back now," I say...

The night before the Fourth of July

By Susan Roney-O’Brien
when I am tossing the neon pink tennis ball the dog found under the porch, the man in the next yard hammers in staccato flurries...

Night Music

By Maureen Traverse
All summer we stayed with Mazie’s mother, who smelled of lavender and gin. We strolled the boardwalk every day, pretend ladies in tattered lace...

Tattered Little Father

By Taylor Oren
I keep a photo of a stranger. I rescued him out of an estate sale cigar box. He looked the most like me.

An Honest Mistake

By Michael Somes
I walked into the wrong apartment coming back from work, and someone else’s wife embraced me.

The Hive

By Ingrid Jendrzejewsk
We’re buzzing in our pews, the electricity of raw gossip flitting around us like so many wings. We feed on it, spread it around like a honey that sticks.

Photo Story: Life in Movies

By Richard Edenfield
We liked to mash up the entire box of Junior Mints into one big ball. Make it into the Death Star and eat it like Jedi Knights.

Photo Story: Pierced

By Catina Green
She wore army men as earrings, stretched t-shirts into skirts and blew through a can of AquaNet every two weeks maintaining a rooster comb hairdo of her own design.

Papi

By Christopher Cruz
I raced back from our house in Puerto Rico, going back to where my father slipped off the cliff. My brother, Miguel, was with me.

Photo Story: All Things Bright and Beautiful

By Max Cardwell
Under northern skies in a hotel bed he is shifting in tidal sleep, from foyer bar oblivion.

Jimmy Leaves a Message and Considers Nautical Miles

By Jason Marak
Hi, Delta. You're not taking my calls. Maybe you don't have a signal. Either way. Just wanted to tell you keep clear of me.

The Lineup

By Michele Berger
Ricky drags Derek, out of his hiding place, into the lineup with the other neighborhood boys.

Rolling

By Dzvinia Orlowsky
Late August, a cat rolling in mown grass flips to its back again, then to its feet, half sun-drunk, half whiplash tail. I am loved. Not. Am.