“Definition, please?”
She was dreaming again. Back on that same stage, the lights glaring in her eyes. The old elementary school auditorium with its thick crimson curtains parted. The microphone before her. Or sometimes she’d suddenly be in the gymnasium instead, the air rank with sweat and floor wax, the bleachers filled to capacity. It was never very clear. It was never . . . Wait, was it possible to smell in one’s dreams?
Continue reading “Parts of Speech by M.S. Nieson”
The sun is too hot for May, and my arm is starting to burn. That’s what I’m thinking of when I’ve missed my afternoon bus. That and my sister, Julia. My name is Elijah William Scott. And I am the reason my sister is dead. There’s a shortcut you can take off of Sawmill Road to get to our house. I don’t take it anymore. I don’t need to look at the drawings, the flowers, the “We Miss You” signs. It’s all bullshit. It doesn’t mean anything. She won’t know.
Continue reading “Julia by Chloe M. Dehon”
“We create monsters and then we can’t control them.” –Joel Coen
Looking back through the window of memory with all its scratches, I’m driven to tell my story not to frighten but to enlighten because in the end—that cocky, inescapable end—-it’s truth, not reality, that transforms us. According to Dr. Hornsby, the men shuffling cards at my kitchen table that December at 3 in the morning were part of what he called my ongoing childhood fantasy— except that, unlike all the other fantasies, this one was the first that could be fatal.
“It’s called paracosm, Peter,” he informed me. “None of it is real.”
Continue reading “Hooked by Jack Kamm”
My name is Hakeem Alford, and I made the Dean’s List at San Juan Junior College (SJJC). I wasn’t trying to make the Dean’s list. I was surprised to find out that the dean even had a list. I’m not a straight “A” student. Most of the time, I’m a student, you don’t expect to get an ‘A.’
Continue reading ” A Casual Abuser by Frederick K Foote”
literally stories 