By Daphne Fama He killed her in the bathroom of an Amoco gas station on a lonely stretch of Route 301 somewhere between South Carolina and Georgia in 1988. It was the sort of bathroom you needed a key to get into. The type that’s outside in the back, a broom closet with a depressing,…

By Brian Barnett The door was locked, just as Daniel Brown anticipated. He gently rattled the doorknob to show Frank that his suspicion hadn’t been unwarranted after all. The window panes rattled noisily and the white paint, grayed with age, threatened to flake from the splintered wood of the heavy door. Frank simply nudged Daniel…

By Yash Seyedbagheri stir words like alphabet soup even if they get soggy poet in beret proclaims with glued smile and eyes covered in shadows jumble them around a bit more, leave enough space to breathe. and don’t create lines   of the moon, a field of flowers, packages festooned with gold bows a pink…

By C. M. Costa I watched as a lady with a large, serrated kitchen knife sticking out of her right eye filled out some kind of form. Across from her, a man in a brown suit supervised through gold-rimmed spectacles. When she finished, the man behind the counter said something and pointed past the back…

By Terri Mullholland She wakes in the night to find people standing around her bed. Men, women, and children. Sometimes they wear uniforms, sometimes everyday clothes, once they were all draped in shrouds. They are always in black and white. They’re only dreams. That’s what everyone tells her. And to be fair, they’re classic night…

By P. Michael Nugent Our Night It is dark on this street where our family house still stands. We live in shadow even when the sun pulls itself over the great sea wall to the east and into the sky above. Electricity still runs down here in the Wetlands but it comes and goes, sometimes…

By Andrew Kolarik Walk amongst the green, the heavy banks of green, beneath the canopy of the beechwoods. Through the filtered sunlight, shifting shadows and comforting, organic growth, through the blackcurrent, redcurrent, the tangles of roots, to where the trees open up to the sky. And spy what lies beyond. In the fields, in the…

By Franco Amati I was getting a bagel and a coffee, and the girl behind the counter was looking at me weird. She was, like, really staring at me. I’m not a handsome guy, so it didn’t make sense. I got all self-conscious and touched my face thinking maybe there was something stuck to it.…