From Issue 29.2 Marilyn F. Moriarty The only excess on Inishmore was in the people — in their talking, in their music — and last night what music there was with noisy old ballads, raucous...
Victoria Saltz “No harm done, am I right?” That was the third time I had been wrong that day. I smiled earnestly at the cashier in the green apron bending down to pick up the bruised...
Jeffrey Ricker You learn about the multiverse theory from your Facebook feed, when a story about it appears above a photo someone posts of your best friend from high school. It’s unexpected,...
Aaron J. Housholder They were old enough to have become nice boys, Jake and Jimmy, but somehow they had not. Their families would later describe them as upstanding young men who seemed so...
Rion Amilcar Scott Dearest Slumlord, I watched a most disturbing video the other day. It was a rare moment when the internet worked (yes, I know, not your fault unlike our water which is here...
2017 Fiction Award Winner, Chosen by Patricia Park Ashley Morrow Hermsmeier Greer pulled a strip of rubbery, partially chewed chicken from her mouth and tossed it onto the saggy porch. “I...
Megan Cummins He sits down next to me at the bar of the sushi restaurant where I’m waiting for my take-out. With a sideways glance I realize he’s old enough to drink but just barely. So...
Sean Lovelace Above western France, James Franco tumbled (more sucked out actually) from a C-82 cargo plane and spinning, spinning, through strands of torn cotton, whirls of luggage-shaped...
Miranda Schmidt When the two people come into the woods, they bring their noise with them. They crackle old leaves in new hiking boots, snap pictures and laugh as they point at birds and...
Kim Chinquee At the auction I wear a bright pink tank top and walk around in my bare feet. I touch my face. I’m so hot that my teeth hurt. People stand around a flatbed, where the...
