Tag Archive: short story

The Lake House, Later — Brenden Wysocki

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         A woman is dead, I know this.          There is a police station, a polygraph, and a political favor to speed up the process, I know this because this is what I am told.… Continue reading

Under the Rope Swing — Evan James Sheldon

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The husband thought things were going pretty well between himself and his wife until he found the dead birds. He came home on a lunch break and while he was pulling up, a… Continue reading

Aurora Borealis — Ginny Fite

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My left hand, raised above me holding a paperback novel, is missing my wedding ring. An indentation remains, ghost-like, on my skin, a reminder of allegiance and duty. My hands swelled at eight… Continue reading

Saint Cosme — David Amadio

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Royce Demarco hadn’t seen his parents in over two months. He was out of work and had some time on his hands, so he decided to pay them a visit. On a Thursday… Continue reading

2 Stories — Rachel Luria

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The Bull The woman sits at the bar. Next to her a man plays pool. She admires his flanks as he bends over the table. She’s trying to quit smoking so she’s sucking… Continue reading

What’s in the Suitcase? — Christine Sneed

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October 2 Dear Mallory, I have been looking for your face among all the faces in this city, but it appears you aren’t here. When I was at Walgreens the other day buying… Continue reading

At the Root — Rebbecca Brown

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CJ made a mother out of birthday cake, so I decided I’d force a father from the dirt I now tendered. CJ made that mother years ago from wanting something sweet to do… Continue reading

Among the Lost — Nathaniel Meals

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I In early July 20-, just before the heat wave struck that would plague our region with the hottest, driest, most lethal string of days in over a century, I went to the… Continue reading

SLEEPERS — K.C. Frederick

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The faculty meeting wasn’t any more boring than usual. The new dean seemed to be addressing another audience, as if she were already auditioning for a better job. Mike Pollard from History managed… Continue reading

A Theory of Game, a Theory of Horror — Josh Woods

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I’ve played through this idea for a video game a dozen times at least, maybe close to a thousand, but because each run-through was distinct and only in my head, the number of… Continue reading

Afterlife — Joe Ponepinto

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When people come back from the dead they come back from heaven or something like it, not from hell. Except for Dr. Bennett Bentivoglio, who said his certainty about the afterlife that he’d… Continue reading

A Good Priest — Emily Glossner Johnson

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The gaunt man with parchment skin sat on the orange plaid couch in Father Connall O’Riordan’s office across from where Connall sat in his desk chair. Connall never sat behind his desk when… Continue reading

The Salamander — Mikho Mosulishvili, Translated by Ani Mosulishvili

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Originally published in Georgian in Mikho Mosulishvili’s book The Mercy Stone (2011) published by Publishing House Siesta. A note: Salamanders have been associated with the fire since early times. The legend of salamanders… Continue reading

The Lady of the Kaprovana Zone — Manana Dumbadze

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Originally published in Georgian in the Georgian monthly literary magazine ახალი საუნჯე (Akhali Saunje ) in November, 2016. Let me warn you at the outset that this Macbeth has nothing to do with… Continue reading

DEATH EPISODES — Shmavon Azatyan

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He gave the taxi driver the directions and settled into the back seat. No chatting with the driver. In Yerevan, taxi drivers typically chatted up the passengers. The company didn’t charge them with… Continue reading

By the Time You are One Hundred — Laura Krughoff

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By the time you are one hundred, you have buried almost everyone you have ever loved. One would think death and dying would be familiar to you now, after all of these years… Continue reading

Standard Disclaimers — Jason Simon

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The following is probably a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is rendered moot by the author’s egocentrism and faulty memory. I think I first met John in middle… Continue reading