Amy Minton This rickety fishing-boat-turned-dive-charter stinks of fish guts and flowery aerosol. Planks around the wheelhouse are freshly painted—maybe yesterday, maybe last week. Nothing ever...
Noelle Catharine Allen Personal History THE DANCER AND THE DEMIGODS by Leonard Geist Leonard Geist, our beloved friend and contributor to this magazine, passed away in his sleep this month. He was a...
Natalia Holtzman paperIt’s wartime in Yugoslavia and Haso is searching through a local village. He goes into one of the houses and finds an old lamp. Just as he wraps a hand around this lamp, a...
Steph Kilen Winner, 2014 Fiction Award Must be a little over a year now I’ve been in the basement. Just me and the Swede, or whatever he is, I’m just assuming. He doesn’t talk. He can hear, but...
Dana Diehl Three years after the pilot’s wife died, her sister flew across the Atlantic Ocean to visit America for the first time. The sister’s name was Anna. Anna, the wild, redheaded,...
Ryan Habermeyer Winner, Fiction Contest A foot had been uncovered from a sandbar the night after the solstice. Nobody was sure how long it had suffered there in anonymity as it had been found...
George Morgan Scott Unnoticed by the prattling guests, little Toby, twitching with the terrible twos, climbs up on the stuffed chair, totters, catches his balance, reaches for the security...
Emily Rinkema I wake up because my father is at the door. “Want to go fishing?” he whispers, and I know it must be too early for school, too early to be waking up. The light in the hall is...
As he waits for a human voice, Dan remembers the look on his daughter Kelsey’s face at Christmas when she gave him a year’s membership to the over-fifty dating club. ...
On the tips of bare toes, arm stretched so far it hurt, I placed the final red brick. This was the top of my tower. I had more Legos, but I could only reach so high. I stepped back to see what I had...
