The Old Fisherman by James Callan
The land, at last, called the seadog ashore.
Crimeslop by Tatiana Kent
I have a jar of Wickle’s Pickles and half a half gallon of milk and…
Proust: a dialogue by Simon Firth
‘Wasn’t it the sleepy-headed Proust, propped up by dusty pillows in his cork-lined bed on…
Scary by Jon Vilardi
Through tears, he looks at the holographic Daft Punk poster above his direct-to-consumer rubber bed.
An Incomplete Survey of Americans who are named John Wayne but are not the legendary 20th-century film star John Wayne by Sarp Sozdinler
At least six Jon Waynes are displeased by the typo in their names.
Critique by Bill Tope
Robert booted up his laptop and immediately navigated to Babies, Orphans and Puppies (BOP), his…
Equal Parts by Michael Igoe
I try to map the course of an evening beforehand. I hope to later gain…
Safari by Bill Tope
Roland didn’t have much meat on his bones.
Going Up by C. Hightower
Tents became hotels overnight. Red-white-and-blue banners fluttered like uncertain flags in a play with no…
Varmit by Josh Dale
I’m home now, daddy. Turning on my cam…