While the Neo-Cons Slept by Janek Ambros

  IN THE MID 1970s, the neo-conservatives started to move away from the Democratic Party in lieu of Henry Jackson’s multiple failed presidential bids and the rise of the anti-war left taking control of the Democrats, with George McGovern leading the charge. With too much

Oh, Christmas Tree by Ellie Reed

The girls are not the last to arrive at the farm, but they’re certainly cutting it close. It’s after dark on December 23rd, and I have to admit I was starting to worry that it wouldn’t happen for me this year. That’s been the case

Subject: Waterman Family Christmas by Allison Lynch

Subject: Waterman Family Christmas From: Pam Waterman-Chase <pwatermanchase@gmail.com> To: WatermanFamily@googlegroups.com Date: Fri, November 24, 2017 at 7:13 AM Good morning, Watermans! I hope you all are digesting peacefully after last night’s Thanksgiving feast. Thank you again to Jonathan, Carrie and kids for hosting. I would

The Lavender Room by Bobby Minelli

I suppose, when it comes down to it, what everyone really wants is a simple answer as to why I was out on the fire escape in the first place. They’ve all been treating me like a goddamn deviant or a lunatic or something, and

The Nathaniel Chronicles by Janek Ambros

November 13th, 1998. New York City. What a cesspool. I came here on a redeye, coked out my skull, wearing a striped navy blue suit, a bow tie, and tandem brown leather shoes and belt. Barry Levinson bought the shoes and belt for me as

Where Only Air Had Hung Before by Aaron Golden

We finished the treehouse on Saturday night, our hands riddled with blisters and our throats seared from the aggressive treatment of spliffs we had prescribed ourselves since the morning. It was a marvelous sight: a spacious wooden den built on the carcass of a redwood,

The Mat by A.W. Greene

My name is Patricia, but I go by Pat, or at least that’s what I’ve taken to calling myself. It’s funny, me writing a preface in my own little 280-page journal. It’s a bit too long, really. Dr.Ew tells me that I’ve been carrying this

The Temple of the Muses by Bobby Minelli

1. My father’s absolute favorite book was Jane Eyre. He read it to me nightly while we cuddled beneath blankets upon his bed in our flat at 11 Broomfield Rd. We were of modest means, and yet by sheer coincidence, we shared our surname with

Better Best Forgotten by Faye Griffiths

We were sitting at the dinner table, finishing off. We were still in our school shirts and skirts, the material of the classic 80´s kitchen chairs digging an imprint on the underside of my thigh. My sister was eating a yoghurt and she was leaning

On Home by Kathryn Larkin

It was somewhere near the age of thirty when it happened – although I think it’s safe to say that it’s somewhere near the age of thirty when a lot of things happen, when we ask bigger questions than we thought ourselves capable of, when

The Weight of Dust by John Staughton

“Any good collection is full of ghosts.”  ~ Anonymous The sun was out when the brunette woman and the child arrived at his bedside. Her head seemed to glow in front of the window, like the old glass pictures in the church he had gone

Hera’s Orchard by Bryanna Cloney

Our children bought us a padded swinging seat for our 45th wedding anniversary. They kindly put it together for us, but took for granted how hard it was to pop a tight champagne cork. After two attempts, we resorted to our default tipple – Cointreau.