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by Cezarija Abartis Toward the end of his life, John's father saw people climbing out of the dresser. John turned on the dresser lamp though it was afternoon and summer light was streaming in through the open window. His father told him he had seen young Shorty, waving to him and inviting him to a softball game. John reminded him that Shorty had stepped on a mine in Korea.
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by Kat Lewin From across the counter, Victor can smell the conditioner in her hair, pulsing toward him in fruity waves. "Can I see some ID?" She is buying a bottle of white wine and a package of diet cookies at two fifteen in the morning on a Tuesday. He has seen her ID so many times that he knows which corner the tricky Maryland license hides birthdates in, that she will be turning thirty-six ten days from now.
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by Ed Meek The light those cool fall mornings would slip surreptitiously into our damp tent. Caroline and I had our sleeping bags zipped together to form a rectangle. I would wake up tangled in her hair, my lips pressed against her neck. I loved the taste of her skin--salt and sweat, and the feel of her skin--down and silk over smooth stone of bone. I'd turn and squint at the shaft of light, motes suspended, drops of dew, and yank myself up to get dressed. She'd take her sweet time so I'd leave first and head over to the common fire Burton would have raging, the smell of coffee percolating in the tin pot.
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by Anita Naughton It's that time again. The bats are out, flung into the blackness of the night. Cutting the space in front of me as they dive, curve and retreat. Earlier, swallows swarmed the pale blue sky, quick-winged and light; the world appeared infinite. But now night has arrived, and with it the bats.
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by Bruce Holland Rogers I go to sit in the dark nursery, contemplating my son's crib. I hope the doctors don't conclude that he has a serious condition, but if he does have a medical condition I hope it is nothing to do with his brain.
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by Kevin Spaide My wife said, "I'm thinking of changing my name."
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by Lewis Turco As soon as he woke up he remembered the last thing that had happened before he lost consciousness. He had been sitting in his favorite chair in front of the television set watching the evening news. His wife had been sitting on the sofa watching as well in the parlor of their second-floor flat in the house that they had bought late in their lives and marriage.
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