Bicycles

Amanda Hempel

We sailed through the evening-cool crevices of Forest Hills,
grass clippings and hawberries that popped like fire
under our sneakers, barking dogs hidden in houses

The Bachelor

Luke Stromberg

We imagine him sexless — this wifeless,
childless man with his false teeth
and rumpled fedora; each article of clothing
a different species of plaid, as if he hailed
from a time before there were mirrors.

How to Kill a Story

Aimee Labrie

Be sure to pepper your story with clichés. Don’t limit yourself to just textual clichés (sighing with relief, panting like a dog, running at lightning speed), be sure to have clichéd situations and stock characters (innocent young girl meets handsome football player…but evil drug-addled, Mustang-owning hoodlum thwarts the affair).

Summer School

C.G. Morelli

I’d have my glove on my lap and we’d pop a couple pieces of Doublemint gum into our mouths and talk about how crappy Steve Jeltz had played the week before or how pathetic Steve Bedrosian looked coming out of the pen.

Clamming – Changing Tides

Robert Freedman

I hadn’t discovered meditation back then, but if I had I might have noted that how I felt was the state that those who meditate aspire to reach. But maybe if I had known, it would have ruined the whole thing.

Novel excerpt: Little Magpie

Randall Brown

Maggie looks up. She removes the finger from her mouth. “Must be the baby,” she says. Her hand follows the curve of her belly. “She wants bugs.”

“Really? They sell crickets at pet stores. I could get some.”

The Absence of Fog

Nimisha Ladva

Usha and I were waiting for our usual treat, a fresh, buttered, sugar-sprinkled roti each. But then our grandmother bellowed from upstairs. “Who let all the fog into my room?” demanded Ba.