Without His Fingers

Ona Russell

The day was hot and humid, typical of a Philly summer. Bernie and John couldn’t wait for their ocean swim.

St. Andrew of Amalfi

Andrew DiPrinzio

Andrew cracked his butter knife through the shrimp’s pink shell. Droplets of olive oil flung across the table. One landed on Gillian’s cyan blouse. She had called the color cyan and had bought it for the honeymoon because she still tried to impress him.

In the Land of the Schustermans

Ilene Raymond Rush

“Let’s never keep secrets,” Annie’s future mother in law whispers to her at the bottom of the stairs in their house in Wynnewood, two hours before Annie’s wedding to her only son Jack.

In the Trenches of the Cimarron Canyon

Kristian Macaron

When La Llorona met Billy the Kid in the trenches of the Cimarron canyon, the world was black with smokestacks, burning as buildings became tumbleweeds. The scars of the trees were brighter than the mountains, now rounded hills of charcoal and we were all mountain men, bleary-eyed and mad with thirst. From the gorge, under […]

Grim Story

Andrea Selch

For one whole decade I was a giant:

For R

Amy Small-McKinney

When I am dead, I will still be your lamb, still listening for your bleating.