Softball by Samuel Jacques (dacdac) Samuel Jacques Samuel Jacques (dacdac) is a graphic artist, illustrator and animation director. He makes whimsical stories, objects with soul and takes care of his succulents in...
There’s Nothing Past This by Emily Townsend That one. That bag in the overhead, the ripped corner, the brown strap seemingly torn by a feral dog, hanging off the brink. There’s an edge cubing the zipper, the size of gift card. It glows in the fluorescent lights....
Years by Doug Ramspeck The years are a hive. Or a swarm. They gather in the prisoner’s chest or with the hairs that protrude like tiny dark weeds on the surface of his arms. Or maybe they are his breaths or the sounds of him rolling over in his cot or reaching out to...
Some Things You Can Ask Me by Rita Ciresi After I left the nursing home, I sat in my Lexus in the parking lot. It was hot. It was June. My parents would have been married sixty years today. Dad was long gone. But I’d left Mom slumped in her wheelchair in her...
Ransom by Mark Budman Her skin changed colors every other second, and that was why she belonged to the lowest caste in her far, far away country. In fact, her caste was so low and so rare that it had only one member: her. People in the other castes had normal skin:...
Big Stone Lake by Denise Jarrott bare feet in the snow wandered off into a field he believed the field was heaven then he thought the snow was remnants of bodies of light. that heaven could be accidental, a wandering into a hallway, half in sleep half awake, and...
