Calvin Looks Around

by Avery Gregurich
Hostas by Heather via flickr. Creative Commons license.

As the slug1 buried2 beneath a recurring3 hosta4, I5 have6 lived7 a sheltered8 life.9

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Good Stewards of the Earth

by Kate Garklavs

To say that we are siblings is not enough. I’m not speaking just in terms of biology, but of the physicality. When we lay our arms side by side on the table, there exists still a shadow of doubt that they belong to the same person: Jake’s is broader and more densely haired. We are not […]

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Kovacs

by Edward Mc Whinney

The Oslo Bar is down by the river, down the docks, you can hear the cranes, the winching, you can smell the dust and pick up a few kilos of bananas or a bag of coal from urchins. March is a rough month in these latitudes, when a damp blanket of fog descends for days […]

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Tears

by Ellis J. Biderson

What I do not understand is where the tears go. A baby’s 2:00 A.M. cries for mother’s milk. Perhaps an ounce. A child’s skinning a knee. A couple of tablespoons’ worth, possibly. Lost and rejected love. Forgotten friendship. Faded ardor. Could be a handkerchief or two, full each night for weeks or more, then only […]

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The Horses of Sanlùcar

by Richard Farrell

Edith told her husband she was leaving him and moving back to America. He was standing in the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, shaving cream lathering his cheeks. His back muscles twitched when she said it, but otherwise he didn’t react. There’d been no argument, no clear reason for her declaration. “I need […]

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Geographies

by Sayantani Dasgupta

He dumped her via a terse, two-line email. Which was surprising because for the two years they had been together he had fulfilled her requests for old-fashioned letters by writing them on unlined, creamy sheets until his hand cramped into a claw. He would email her throughout the day, obsessive bursts of news that shot […]

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Motionless

by Lana Bella

Trees and moon stir into phantom shapes outside, playing naked on the empty street. Inside, a heavy mood hangs over the kitchen air. Where a platter of lemon-grass fish soup, fried pineapple rice and green bean in brown sauce, sits motionless and cold. On an oak table. It wobbles and moans. Every time she turns […]

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Seventeenty

by Edward Mc Whinney

I’m almost seventy. When I was seventeen, the other day, I had no idea who I was and the future was so obscure. The people between funerals were a furnace of crazy burning faces rising like sparks, laughing and drunk, and flying through the chaos. Most of them burned like comets or fireworks though there […]

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