Category Archives: Uncategorized

The Last Summer, by Kelly Ford

My friends would head to the pool that day. They’d show off their new boobs in their new biki­nis. Point out which boys they want­ed to date. Make plans with­out me for our upcom­ing sopho­more year. Angela paused and spun her … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Flight, by Mitchell Grabois

  Once you have tast­ed flight, said Leonar­do you will for­ev­er walk with your eyes turned sky­ward   and when you are four­teen and ini­ti­at­ed into sex by a thir­­ty-two year old woman who lives in your par­ents’ hip­pie com­mune you will for­ev­er … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Poems by Marian Veverka

After the Vic­tims were Buried Every­one went back to the farm­house where Friends and wives of neigh­bors had set out food. At first there was just the sounds of chew­ing and Swal­low­ing and maybe a child pip­ing up a few times — Every­one still con­scious … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Castoffs, by Lindsey Walker

How would this look to a cop, hang­ing halfway inside the unlatched win­dow with C.J. boost­ing me through? It is dark inside, but I grip what I think is the short side edge of a farm­house table, pull my knees … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Summers in Durham, by Alana Folsom

There were too many well-marked and paved roads For it to be Small Town Amer­i­ca. Was only want­i­ng The antique store with the rib­boned-off rock­ing chair In which the very Martha Wash­ing­ton once perched, Or just some­thing eas­i­ly iden­ti­fied as quaint By … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Baptism, by Misty Skaggs

All the old men from the Beartown Church of God call me Sis­sy. There’s Ligey and Whirley and John­ny and my Mamaw’s cousin, who found Jesus after he beat can­cer a cou­ple years back. They’re work­ing Men of God. They rem­i­nisce about their drink­ing days, and trade around … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Three flash fictions, by Timothy Gager

Best Fiends All the appa­ra­tus at the play­ground was bro­ken. There was rust­ed slides, hang­ing chains with­out swings, and dis­as­sem­bled mon­key bars that looked like cru­ci­fix­es with­out a Christ. We rolled out of the sandbox—after we’d shot all the sand … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Leonard, essay by Brannon Miller

In my mother’s roman­tic his­to­ry, between the book­ends of her divorce from my father when I was two and her mar­riage to my step­fa­ther when I was sev­en, there was Leonard. I remem­ber Leonard being tall, with sinewy mus­cles stretched … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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Reasons Fried Chicken and Coffee Hasn't Updated Recently

1. Why do you care? 2. If you care/d, maybe you could have, I don't know, sent me a mes­sage and asked me whas­sup. Some of you did, to your ever­last­ing cred­it. 3. A cow some­where died and I was dev­as­tat­ed, … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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#MyWritingProcess

#My Writ­ing Process Blog Tour I’ve been tagged by the fan­tas­tic writer Tama­ra Linse to talk about #MyWrit­ing­Process, such as it is. I hope these answers will enter­tain or reveal, depend­ing on what you think of my writ­ing. What am I … Con­tin­ue read­ing

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