Fiction
May Contributors
X.C. Atkins, Kendra Augustin, Ioana Barbulescu, Amy Allen, Melissa Llanes Brownlee, Indigo Carter, Catherine Dean, Michael Fontana, Robert John Miller, Mitchell Ny, Brittany Pike, Albert Rodríguez, Nayt Rundquist, Daniel Sheen, Antonio Sodré, Mick Theebs, and Brian Washines
May Highlights
the drive across america road trip festival
by Robert John Miller
“I was honored to drive the family RV as our addition to the Drive Across America Road Trip Festival. It helped that Dad was still in prison and Mom was rum-drunk and I had just officially passed driver’s ed, but it was still an honor.”
flowers
by X.C. Atkins
“I’d dump them into the lake just out of town, as usual. I sawed them into manageable pieces, listening to the Cocteau Twins.”
we dance the hula at the hotel luau
by Melissa Llanes Brownlee
“and we dance the hula and we dance the hula and we don’t tell our stories not the ones you want to know…”
the day the wanted man, everett franklin’s taken into custody, again
by Amy Allen
“he’s shirtless, barefoot, strolling the shoulder of I-95, callused feet impervious to Florida’s heat, his leathery skin akin to Juliana’s, the emotional support bearded dragon perched atop his head…”
carnage
by Christie Chapman
“They were all at the fireworks show when we raided the community garden.”
the blt festival
by Robert John Miller
“…sometimes too the animals would play tricks, and one year a wild coyote had only pretended to be taxidermized and he ate Bill, founder of Wild Bill’s Wild Taxidermized Coyotes, Ltd.”
no body
by Renuka Raghavan
“On Thursdays, Chandra rents herself out as a shadow…She learns their outlines quickly. A man with a chipped tooth wants his shadow longer than his body. A woman who smells of bleach wants no arms. They pay in coins warmed by pockets.”
she’s
by Frances Gapper
“watching baby starling that great fluffy lump of entitlement plumped on the feeder’s crossbar waiting to have seedy mush inserted in its beak shoved down its throat hurry up mummy-daddy…”
in turns
by Tanuja Viswanath
“By the time our oldest siblings were married off, Amma’s hold on us had loosened…We scrounged, learned to boil rice and peel onions without crying, but the days of fresh murukku were gone.”
i met god in a bookstore
by Tracie Adams
“When I spotted the paper dolls among a display of children’s picture books, I felt my body shrink into itself. Suddenly, I was eight again, pulled to the carpeted floor in a crossed-leg position by images of girls in white underwear.”
the alligator
by Elridge Thomas III
“I have wondered since whether he wept from hunger, pleasure, or the chore of living.”
servant
by Oliver Land
“The dog ran into traffic and was hit by a car. The man rushed into the road, and held it in his arms, screaming. There was a lot of blood on the road.”
mr. hollywood
by Christie Chapman
“We started calling him “Mr. Hollywood.” The brothers he beat up as kids now joked that they wanted to be part of his entourage.”
a tribute to henry in apartment 8f
by AP Ritchey
“The elevator took the long way down—it always did—and in that rattling, humming descent I caught myself thinking about Henry…”
othering
by Andrea Damic
“You call us Locust. We are many. We eat the remains of what we find, scavenging trash cans, to feed our young. Some of us survive on blood, while others feast on their prey, unable to suppress their predatory nature.”
death cares
by Foxx Hart
“Contrary to what most people believe, Death cares. It has to. If it didn’t care, it would just be…cruel.”
three micros
by Brendan Todt
“Sarah still writes poems on the Sabbath, but she does not allow herself to write poems about snow, autumn, hair, poems, tulips, leaves, city pools, private pools, freshly dug graves, or giraffes (don’t ask).”
the snarls
by Camryn Brennan
“Our biggest enemy is Hazel Hairbrush. She always kicks us off Maryn’s head.”
can you hear me now?
by Jessica Edmond
“In the morning, I packed while he slept. On the kitchen table, I left a note. I didn’t write what I was feeling. I didn’t explain. I didn’t justify…I just wrote my name.”
what remains
by Té V. Smith
“She told stories, and he listened with cautious attention. While she was speaking, a tune passed through him. Not a song exactly—a rise and fall, a shaping of breath.”