Stories

Holding Hands – SG Phillips

To nervously walk, after a few dates, for what feels like an hour, to wait for her purse to switch arms after she brushes your arm, and then you switch sides while walking because of that purse, only to see her switch that purse to her other arm, and then you bail on the plan of grabbing her hand in its entirety- and she looks at you nervously one block later once she realizes what happened,

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Stories

White Girl – John Pistelli

My father was a cop. That’s why I had to shoot him. He wasn’t a bad cop or anything— not like some of them I’ve met in my life, those that were his friends and those I’ve known since I’ve been in here. I never heard of him planting drugs or taking home confiscated money or beating a confession out of anybody. He never even fired his gun, that I knew of.

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Stories

Here Lies Pattie Walsh [excerpt] – Dennis Pells

CHAPTER 1

 

Some of my earliest recollections are of his eyes upon me. Watching. Waiting. There was something sinister in his gaze, in the touch of his hand. It felt like a lick or a sniff, as if… as if he were tasting me. In his embrace, in his extra squeeze there was a check, to see if I was ripe. I guess, somewhere in the back of my consciousness I always knew what he wanted.

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Stories

The Caretaker – SG Phillips

See Martin, stationed on watch by the sea, the twirling beam of light just behind him casting congruent shapes over the blackness, a radar to those who spent their lives in places like these. The waves shush all sound at the rocky shore, a rhythmic whir which blobs into white noise in his mind as small specks of rocks are cast into the sea. Martin watches the ship routes: small specks on the horizon form eyespot constellations to the blip,

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