Fiction

Poetry

Outside my window there is steam
and there are lights in a skyscraper
where people sit at their desks
and the lights let them work.

Alan S. Kleiman

Fiction

In the bedroom they used to share, the real estate agent opens the blinds, letting in the mid- morning sun, then walks toward the desk

Melissa Williams

Poetry

I miss your coffee-covered breath, Early in the morning. It made me hungrier than death For a thrill without a warning. I miss your sweet

Saira Danielle

Fiction

Cal Jacobs sat in an uncomfortable rolling chair made of plastic and polyester, staring out the tenth floor window of his high-rise.

L. Hugo Mackie

Fiction

Improv class was how
I learned to say what
I wanted to say to you–

James Croal Jackson

Fiction

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