Struck Silent by Whalesong

By James Claffey
The morning of my mother's last day on earth the nurses didn't notice her waif-like frame slip out the door...

Book Review: Snowdog

By Beret Olsen
In Snowdog, Kim Chinquee’s latest collection of flash fiction, the writing is clean and concise, the language unornamented. “[T]he best time to make fake snow is when it’s actually snowing,” she writes in the opening story.

Photo Story: The Gaps Between

By Denise Bayes
They announced on the radio that Freddie was dead. I picked up the phone. “Come over,” he said.

Photo Story: Valentine

By Christy Brothers
Mom packs us into the car. Billy and Jasmine sleep. I sit up front chewing the corners of my nails until they bleed.

Canadensis

By Corinne Silver
They arrived silently, swiftly during the night and stood present by morning. They flocked the fields, parking lots, and manmade suburban ponds. They were big.

Her Mother, My Mother

By Hema Nataraju
Her mother never wore a sari, my mother never did not. Her mother drove a Mustang, my mother walked everywhere, even though I hated being picked up last.

Photo Story: At a speed of 0.5 inches per second

By Nora Nadjarian
The heartbeat is fast and sharp, except no one knows where the snail’s heart is.

Don’t Bother, They’re Here

By Meg Pokrass
“Guess what, Hon? They’re here!” you said, referring to the clowns. They were pounding on our door.

Gone Hunting

By Binx R. Perino
Danny sucks the wet end of a cigarette, tapping his hand on the steering wheel. Wisps of Maggie’s hair whip around from the rolled-down windows.

Cuata

By Tisha Marie Reichle-Aguilera
All my life they called me Cuata. But I was the only one born whole. Mi hermano, Juan, neverbreathed. But I heard him cry.

Kingdom Come

By D.E. Hardy
Still, I hunger for you: those nights we’d get so high we turned into earthworms, how we would writhe, reverent, our entire bodies capable of taste...

Grace at the Intersection of Cass and Nebraska

By Joanna Theiss
Today, I saw you accepting a dollar bill from a truck window. The shake of your hips as you thanked the driver reminded me of your electric slide at the middle school dance.