By: Black Edward The June cold had settled properly over Glen Norah. It crept through jackets and sat quietly in your bones. Along Kunzekweguta Road, the usual smell of burst sewage floated above the potholes and open drains. Most people…
By: Philip Graubart The Hamas delegate stepped to the podium. He wore a checkered Palestinian keffiyeh, tight black jeans, a Grateful Dead t-shirt and shiny white New Balance sneakers. He grinned, loving the attention. His fake Arab pronunciation was not…
By Mark Salamon The soul, too, has its geometric center, and those wise enough not to search for it often find it all the same. The wound of initiation: at times something to conceal, at others an ornament, until one…
By: Don Tassone Ever since she was a little girl, Stella’s favorite movie was The Wizard of Oz. But her favorite part of that movie wasn’t the characters or costumes or special effects. It was its most famous line: …
By: Andy Marin He feels like a fool as people walk by him and into the subway station. He bites his lip and swallows. He would light a cigarette but he doesn’t want to put off passersby who find smoking…
By: Ian C Smith I wanted to defeat time visiting the boyhood manor of my father, that remote relation, who fled the travails of his life by emigrating. Envisaging touring his biography that nobody would write I thought, so old,…
By: Mary Bone The summer between her junior and senior years, Alex worked as a server at Wharf Mountain. The tips were great. Alex nearly had enough money to buy a new car. The mountain was full of tourists…
By: Elaine Lennon They had watched A Nightmare on Elm Street on a television that belonged to Steve’s parents, which meant the television was large and the carpet was thick and the room smelled faintly of furniture polish and whatever…
By: Elaine Lennon Mary Anne Smith had learned, early and with some satisfaction, that the most dangerous people rarely announced themselves. They wore tweed coats with elbows gone shiny, spoke politely about provenance, and waited. She herself had perfected this…
By David William Jurgenson “Ty? Are you all right?” Elissa asks in a worried tone. My girlfriend’s words break me out of my reverie. I try to smile but can only manage a grimace instead. “I’m fine.” Elissa knits her…