Dad always told me there was an incinerator back here behind the gas station. Just didn’t think I’d ever see it for myself. And I especially didn’t think I’d see Mom’s stuff burning inside it. But life comes at you fast. Very fast. You have to keep up. Keep up or you’ll die.
Continue reading “The Incinerator and the Sinkhole by Christopher Miller”
That’s how my mum still says it. Her phrase for anything that’s either actually funny, just unusual, quite mundane, or even a slight bit different from how something might be otherwise. Every time I go back home to see her, and then my dad, I can pretty much guarantee she’ll say ‘it’s a little bit funny’ in regard to something or other, as she has done for years.
Continue reading “It’s a Little Bit Funny by Paul Kimm”
Why would life be so unfair to me? What have I done to deserve all this pain and, hardship? Sometimes I sit alone, lost in the quiet hum of the night, questioning every breath I take, every step I make. I search my heart for answers that never come, and the silence feels heavier than words.
What sin did I commit to be born into such deprivation?
She wants to meet on Friday at a restaurant.
We have to talk.
About what I wonder.
Could it be that after all these years she has had enough?
Enough of buying groceries and cooking you delicious meals
Enough of walking in the park
Continue reading “A Final Thing by Adam Kluger “
We went to a local theater production of Little Shop of Horrors. The talking plant looked like a guy in a beanbag, and the singing was off-key. I didn’t mind because I was with you. After the show, you mistook shasta daisies vs. ox-eye daisies at the restaurant. I chuckled and suggested you should learn your flowers — a modest proposal.
Continue reading “Say It With Flowers by David Henson”
The month before my thirteenth birthday, my parents’ marriage stumbled. Its arms pinwheeled for balance, and it might have recovered if not for the present I got. It was that seemingly insignificant little thing that pushed their marriage from behind, sending it over the edge of no return to land chest first onto the steel rebar of divorce below.
Continue reading “And the Winner by Knockout Is . . .by Héctor Hernández”
“Linda, I’ve something to tell you,”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve got a new boyfriend.”
Continue reading “D.I.Y by Hugh Cron (Adult Content)”
HOW WE MET
You have to understand that my first glimpse of her was mostly obscured. The bar was dim and crowded, and I’d already had more than my share of scotch. And wasn’t feeling picky, having struck out three times already — so, after that first glimpse, I sidled right up and said the first slick thing I could think of, which ended up being something about how her dress caught the light. Only then did she turn to face me head-on, showing me what she was and exactly what I’d just done.
Continue reading “My Relationship With Frances Marie Sauvegeot, 1973 – 2001 By Martin Reid Sanchez”
Leon drank a coffee with crinkly eyed, cookie eating car salesman Bob, Saturday afternoon at Desliles,
“Service is great at this altar of consumption,” Leon thought.
It was a few months ago he’d last met with Bob, and they’d discussed hats and bears as well as tales from the past and the quirky nature of circumstance. Bob never forgot anything, but this time, they didn’t mention clothes.
Continue reading “What Bob Remembered by Harrison Kim”
Then they walked along by the riverside.
The man and woman were walking separately and Cowboy, his pit bull, was on his leash at his side.
Suddenly she half-crashed into the man, almost knocking him over, then pulling him back toward her with her strong, powerful, small arms while Cowboy jumped around on the end of his leash and watched the show.
Continue reading “Then They Walked Along by the Riverside by Dale Williams Barrigar”
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