Stained Lips

By Jan Elman Stout
She dabs her lips with Faithful Fawn. He hovers behind, runs his fingers through his graying hair, eyes fixed on his reflection. How do I look? Her mouth forms a perfect “O,” presses shut.

Full Cold Moon

By Gay Degani
They bear witness, the girl and the supermoon, pinned to different worlds. She studies the ocean, chin on knees, toes buried in cooling sand...

Child’s Play

By Melanie Bui Larsen
The first thing we noticed after breaking into his room was the mess. Mounds of clothing and food wrappers rose like rock formations.

An Addition to the Fami...

By Lavanya Vasudevan
They smell the same, your woman and child, drenched in the sweet of milk and the salt of sweat.

Candymen

By Mir-Yashar Seyedbagheri
Matthew and his sister throw Junior Mints at the movies. It’s their childhood ritual, a ritual recently reclaimed.

Aches and Pains

By Lora Kilpatrick
We sit on ash heaps, picking our scabs. We’ve learned not to feel the hunger or pain anymore.

Photo Story: Senaida

By Shara Concepción
First came the missionaries, their soft limbs sifting debris; their sloughing faces beading saltwater, full of want for remembrance. Gone, the clamor of rebuilding.

You Gotta Know Your Ter...

By Paul Beckman
I called my wife from the road and told her that the sales were slow and I was going to cross the state line into Nebraska and try to open some new territory and we exchanged I love yous...

School Run

By Lucy Goldring
force children buggy bags through front door walk fast walk faster break into jog point out dog shit are we late mum no it’s fine just haven’t got time to spare…

Cubist Mother

By Michelle Ross
When I found my mother throwing dishes at the mortar wall behind our house, she said only, “I forgot these once belonged to my mother.”

My Lover the Fly

By Nan Wigington
Alright, so he throws up all over his food. So what? He doesn't have the enzymes to eat this crap.

Device

Kim Magowan
Waiting with my daughter for her dad, the concrete stoop burns my ass. Gabrielle plays with that crystal ball, her phone. “Do you have your bathing suit?” I ask.

Cigarettes

By Amy L. Bethke
We had one argument and that’s all. Cigarettes. Me telling you they stink, saying please brush your teeth so I can kiss you.

Crafts

B.A. Williams
Cora was crafty. She sewed patchwork quilts, baked cupcakes by the cartload, and crocheted like a woman possessed.

Why I Despise Christmas...

By Sarah Freligh
Because of the evergreen stink of gin I got a face full of whenever my daddy kissed me good night...

Of Mice and Hofmann

By Michael Michailidis
I could never forget those mice, the way they looked at me when I administered the compound, LSD-25.

First Winter After the ...

By JSP Jacobs
Breathless, she steadies herself against the front door, turns to survey all she’s done. A clear path shoveled through the snow.

English 101

By Amy J. Kirkwood
Red pen buzzing through and over her dream-laced stories, always. Are you sure about the use of ‘extra-ordinary’, here? (sp) exclaimed, exceptional.

Tarriers

By Marianne Rossant
We sang the mining shanty at chorus time: the sound of a drill going down down into the ground, the gritty grey of the miner’s faces docile for the sweet dark tea and the hardest of biscuits...

Names

By Santian Vataj
In the beginning, it was snuggle-butt and cuddle-squirrel, sugarcane, kitten breath and squishy-bear.