Short Fiction and Poetry

Her grandfather had always frightened Lauren with stories about what creatures lived at the bottom of the river [...]

It was a hot night. He tossed and turned restlessly in his sheets. In his dream he saw a vast steppe [...]

The colors of autumn swirl around Olivia as she enjoys a late afternoon walk. Her rust-colored dog, Maisy, ambles along by her side [...]

We watched through the back window as she ran after our bus in the rain. We: Dry. Confined. Going forward [...]

We worked in two rows. Our father dug up spuds in dress trousers, the big yellow tubers encrusted with bog navy earth surrounding him [...]

“What’s for Dinner, Mom?” Sweat dripped from my bangs, like little streams of salt water dripping from a pier after high tide [...]

The township employee mowed the grass that grew so high that neighbors complained about it even while they had ignored the cries [..]

Deep below the lake’s murky surface, there sits—intact—a house. A two-story structure of Carpenter Gothic details like elaborate wood [...]

My granddaughter is very gifted already, but in a very strange way…[...]

If you feed them, they will come. It’s true for birds, squirrels, stray cats, sharks, and, if you consider the average church picnic [...]

Turn to the next page. In this dog magazine. Skip the Table of Contents. Skip the Editorial. But stop for the photo [...]

“Game night has been moved from your place to A’s house,” S informs me. “You’re welcome to join.” Wait. [...]

The year that I died, I started learning origami. My fingers dulled the folds with nervous perspiration and my jaw ached [...]

In the calm evening lights with night fast approaching, Johnson sits at a table in his favorite corner of the bar [...]

A shaving curls from the edge of the birch log, long and even. Jesse keeps his buck knife sharp [...]

He dreamed of death. Through the midnight fog, he spotted a wagon. It was parked in a small clearing in the woods. He walked towards it[...]

The blood has stopped pumping hard, for both of us, although at least mine remains inside my veins [...]

Buckets of plaster line the basement walls. Mom goes downstairs to mix and measure the right amount [...]

“The cat is dead…why doesn’t he just wait until spring?” Pam sighed deeply, sliding her mug of tea away, and lowering her face into her h

"I don't do that anymore. Please stop asking." Morna set down her cup and stared at her daughter in-law. [...]