Four Harlow Postcards by Stephanie Dickinson

HARLOW POSTCARD 1 CENT Amulet Harlow & the Fertility Rite “Not only was Bello still jobless, but his newfound status as a movie star’s stepfather had increased his infidelities. Enraged and disgusted, Mother Jean contacted a lawyer in secret until Bello discovered her scheme and threatened to sell pornographic photos...

No Man's Land by Casey Bell

Mimi. Or Miriam, as you’re always correcting me. I thought you’d at least come down here yourself. Instead you hired some white woman from an agency. You arranged for my abduction. Casually, remotely. Trish Hopkins from a place called Flanders Meadows. And all I can picture when she says this...

Glossolalia by Adam De Petris

He once caught Nana singing in a language whose words seemed all one seamless word. She was singing to her paintings, portraits of faces he’d never known and could only ask whose bodies they belonged to. “Me,” Nana said. “These are my faces, all of them.” Yet he couldn’t understand...

Playing House by Matthew Fiander

The boy, Billy, was the husband. He pinched an imaginary tie knot between his fingers, straightened it in front of an imaginary mirror, then ran his hand over his blond curls in an attempt to mat them into a neat, business-like part. He picked up a lunch box of Legos...

Bad Mother by Charles Grosel

I am a bad mother. I’ll be the first to admit it. Take Little League games. Can’t stand them. All these blonde sorority moms, pushy or prissy or both, and black-haired, tattooed me, cheering on our little darlings. Please. I wouldn’t even be here if Mom hadn’t signed Noah up...

Restoration by Elizabeth Vignali

You rip up the old beige carpet, matted down with fifty years of footsteps. Dust whirls up: bantam bits of grandparents and babies and pets and dinosaurs and rocks from space. The history of the universe and yesterday’s Chihuahua dandruff are equal here, spinning gold in the light from the...

Part-Time Brother by Alexia Kemerling

Our house on Austin Road had red bricks and green shutters. It was a ranch-style house, with just one floor and the longest hallway in the world. The hallway began in the living room: cozy red couches, framed family portrait of the four of us dressed in matching blue jeans...

Law of Conversation by Tianli Kilpatrick

According to the Laws of Thermodynamics, the sum of the world’s entropies creates a central zero. If I position my feet just right, heels pressed against bags of dog and cat food, my ten-year-old body fits inside the kitchen pantry. I stand silent, watch through the dark brown wooden slats,...

Nostalgia for the Misremembered by N. West Moss

Every memory has an agenda to either comfort us or settle scores. We post pictures of ourselves when we were young to remind people that we were once desirable. In nursing homes, residents tape up photos of themselves in their combat fatigues or wedding gowns, slim and young. Maybe they...

Limits of our Hearing by Samuel Rafael Barber

Q: Why’d you do it? A: My aunt was mad as a hatter, always trying to give us hats despite our assurances as to the impracticality of such an arrangement. We would say “Aunt Susan, we have so many hats already!” We would say “our closets are already so full...

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