Sam flicked his wrist and watched the stone’s path across the water. It skipped five times and winked out in a blind pocket of sunlight. “Did you see that?” He spun around, but at first…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
Nabokov’s Notecards by Judith Skillman
French panes where you waken—the room smaller, the town foreign. The morning sun prismed, cutting through one house to wing another. The train whistle urgent, its butterflied cars snaking as if through tunnels inside other…
The Teenagers by Kaitlyn Burch
They started the day in Savannah, where Addie washed her face in the stained sink of a gas station restroom. They had slept in the car again, parked in the shared lot of a gas…
Elegy for the Person Who Used to Write My Status Updates by Colin Pope
Sweet, cherubic boy who loved a woman SOOOOOO much it warranted the high praise of the exclamation point, the x’s and o’s, even an elated smiley as though this love, this identifier of secret property…
In Memoriam by Keith Rebec
Our town has always struggled to bury its dead; in the 70s and 80s, when a person died in an auto accident, their vehicle was towed to Bob’s Auto Repair downtown. Here, for weeks, the…