Fiction
Fiction
What I Can No Longer See
“I’m thankful I’m not a horse,” Marla says, as she reaches for the saltine sleeve inside her tote bag.
Amy Lerman
Poetry
The Day of Our Meeting
I dreamed of the day, In the dead of winter, A dreary day, When I’d step off the train And see you there- The day
Amara Nova
Short Story
Black Shrunken Blemish
When Frances had to speak publicly, her legs shook. As a kid, she had grown faster up than she had out and she had felt
Kyra Baldwin
Fiction
The Decision
Maya puts away our coffee-cups – I’ll rinse them after our walk, along with the produce for lunch – and stands behind me, massaging my neck at the right spot.
Amita Basu
Fiction
Dreamless Nightmare
I have not always had my medication to protect me from epilepsy, to keep my hand steady while I handled boiling grease and kitchen
James A. Corvo
Short Story
One
I can feel the evening sun, warm on my face, but the chill of the wind coaxes me to pull my coat tighter around me.
Debi Crouson