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For Those That Want It
Patrick Trotti Stacey stared at the blank screen of her cell phone in her right palm. In her left arm was her baby. The living room was dark except for the iridescent glow from the small television in the corner. The phone was one of those flip ones that she bought at WalMart. It was […]
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St. Grobian’s Midnite Raffle
Eric Williams I tried to ignore the couple in front of me and just enjoy the movie, but they were absolutely yakked to the gills and being extremely annoying about it. The film festival was showing Giant, one of my favorites – lemme tell you, you can’t beat those West Texas vistas on the big […]
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the boat over there
Supply missions never get appreciated. If you bring home a box of crackers and some rags, you get a golf clap. If you bring home nothing, you’re vilified. But if you bring home two death wounds and a shrug, you get a brief funeral around a Duraflame and become a hero. A disgusting legacy. I’d rather have the crackers.
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Morning Stockton
Craig Rodgers As featured in Francis Top’s Grand Design There is no order here. Aged tomes wrapped some in leather, others paper, brittle with years, lie stacked or arranged along shelf after shelf with no sign of rank or sequence. Their covers run the gamut; names typical, pulled from bestseller lists of the last half […]
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Speakeasy
Jeff Chon It was a speakeasy, a literal speakeasy. Well, not a literal speakeasy—literal speakeasies were run by bootleggers during Prohibition. This was just a pop-up bar run in an empty storespace by local hipsters. But Erica said it was a literal speakeasy, and Hughie wanted to take everything Erica said literally. So he did. […]
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The Ghost of Mile 43
The counsel looks down and the exile looks out at the street and there is a moment when nothing is said, when something is waiting to be said, and then it is there, the counsel is saying fighting it isn’t worth the trouble, not now when it’s already done, and he waits for some reply that doesn’t come, he waits thirty seconds or he waits a full minute before again going into the house.
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Death of Print 