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Nude with Boots, story by Tom Leins
"Same again – no ice." The barman glares at me. I don’t blame him. No one likes being told how to do their job. *** Slattery’s Meat Market is situated in an ugly, unremarkable part of town. It used to be a … Continue reading
Salute, fiction by William Trent Pancoast
I sit by a window on this twenty-degree-below-zero morning and think what it was like for my dad and all the other kids in the Ardennes trying to dig foxholes in the frozen rocky ground, with other kids trying to … Continue reading
Y’all Qaeda, poem by Marcus Bales
They don't believe in women's rights Or science data; Breakfast prayers provide their heights Of thought, but only for the whites, They see themselves as southern knights Who've got the Feds dead in their sights, … Continue reading
Muddy Mississippi, fiction by Katie Moore
My Mama always said if it hadn’t been for that first sight of the Mississippi, twisting like a snake below the levy, she never would have laid down in the back of Billy Taylor’s pickup. The way she told it, … Continue reading
Beau John the Younger, fiction by Jim Chandler
Of all the members of the Journal family, none was more eccentric that Beau John, the younger brother of Senator Hogan Journal. "Beau John lives too much in the past." That was a sentiment frequently expressed by many of the … Continue reading
[Dry County] fiction by Ernest Gordon Taulbee
The carnival had come to Howard County more than one or so times everyone said. He himself had been there ten to twelve times, he thinks. Pretty much as long as he had been with the carnival, so not long … Continue reading
Bedwetters, fiction by Misty Skaggs
The screeching and squawking next door stopped and through the evening silence, Charlene heard frogs peeping in the creek. And she heard her favorite rocking chair squeaking a little louder. She felt herself move and bob a little faster in … Continue reading
Hot Ticket, fiction by Larry Thacker
Pretty much every 4 am on a Tuesday found Ed loafing at the Quik Pick #2. He would slow sip coffee and flirt with Elma as much as she’d allow, all the while mindlessly shuffling through layers of tossed scratch … Continue reading
Poems by John Stupp
Angels Angels are strangers bumping into you a poet wrote— I read it in Poetry so it must be true if so the odds are good as a city commuter I will encounter angels more frequently than a farmer in Nebraska or a cowgirl in … Continue reading
Coffee, poem by Rebecca Schumejda
One of the only mainstays on Broadway is Burger King, where I get my morning coffee. Somehow the manager, Tony, always sneaks in the exact number of days he has left until retirement. Sometimes the weather is unbearably hot or wickedly cold, or his … Continue reading
