Issue 37 – Fiction

The Chill by Richard Burgin

A man walks into a bar and decides that he will tell a joke beginning with those exact words–“A man walks into a bar.”


Maybe the Best Catcher Dickie Pracht Ever Had by Paul Dickey

Dickie Pracht, Tommy’s favorite pitcher, admitted he hadn’t actually seen Tommy for twenty-five years. Anyway, at the last minute at the grave site, Tommy’s daughter invited Dickie to the family lunch provided by her church.  Tommy had often spoken highly of Dickie and that seemed reason enough.


Zeros and Ones by Michael Don

Our bellies are full of Easter, mine for the first time.  I wonder what Neal is thinking.  He likes to start and finish his thoughts with silence.  I do the opposite.


The Change by Kathleen Hellen

Mitzi wasn’t her name; it was the name Dad had given her because it sounded like a movie star’s—more exotic—a nickname he had given her after they married, when she started working for him at the bar.


Juan Camilo’s Dream by Rolaine Hochstein

We were leaving Colombia.  The driver was waiting.  Dennis, my husband, a man of action, was downstairs with our baggage.  I, just a woman, was still upstairs.


In the Cooler at Little Macedonia by Sandra Kolankiewicz

For the months I lived in the City, I worked in a small restaurant called Little Macedonia.  The neighborhood had dirty brick buildings with little markets on street level, markets without splashes of flowers for sale out their front doors or exotic tropical fruits and vegetables lined up in crates along the sidewalk outside.


Ghost Lines by James McAdams

“Remember Tour of Duty?” Clyde asked.  He filled his glass straight from the tap without removing his eyes from the bar’s TV.


Boot Camp by Michael P. McManus

Near midnight it was raining and everyone had left Brian’s going-away party. Brian was gone too, and no one ever knew how long he had been missing in his neighborhood of million-dollar homes.


Solomon by Ryan Napier

From the journal of Solomon Godfrey, captain of the Industrious Cousin, a whaling ship out of New Bedford, Massachusetts:

Sat., Jul. 1. Early this morning, there was fighting below deck.


Apsis by Billy O’Callaghan

After the dreams have come, the mornings feel like glass around me. Everything looks too bright, too well preserved.


Winning Prisoner by June Saraceno

Of the indoor games we played in winter, Prisoner was one of Dare’s favorites. One late afternoon when I had been tied to the small ladder back chair in Dare’s room for what felt like hours, it became my least favorite.


Shiny by Tina Tocco

They were meeting me at school, Dad told her, so Grandma looked for her favorite shoes until she cried.  Even if she’d found them, she could never miss what else had gone missing


Stinkman by J. T. Townley

Then Jonathon’s up and over the railing, crimson cape flapping in the September breeze.  He falls farther than he expects before hitting the warning track; on impact, he grunts, dropping to a knee.