The Heights of Inanimate Things by Jane Zwart One summer the boy I babysatkept cuffing his ears againstdoorknobs. I know that makes him sound like a cartoonstooge, dense or insensible to pattern, but his hurry wasglee, he ran between rooms sure the world would...
Collection by Meghan Sterling Collection All the men I pass, in their cars, in shops, are mine. The streets teeming with them, their fur, their wit’s end. How everyone is a piece of a man I’ve known before. How they still move through me, small bits caught in...
The Good Reverend by Ross McMeekin Snow gathered outside on the low edges of the windows as Rev. Andrew Cherry sat in a dim room on the east wing of the nursing home, reading the newspaper to one of his convalescent congregation members, who was lying in bed, covers...
For Hire by Justin Follin Smith When my husband goes to see his mistress, I wait for his return by elaborately constructing my murder in our living room. It was something we had done together once, a murder-mystery date with his friends. He’d snuffed out the culprit...
The Patron Saint of Loving Bad Men by Libby Copa They thought long and hard about what my saint title should be. Since the name-givers are all men they argued for the sake of arguing and in the end put a selection of words in a hat and draw one out. “Bad” I think is...
Words are Made for Ministration by Peter Grandbois He hates walking his dog after rain. It’s not the puddles or toweling off his dog after. Or even that his dog licks the dew off each blade of grass instead of peeing so he’s late for work. It’s the earthworms. They’re...
