Stories from
August, 2018

I opened the carton, expecting to find milk, but all I got were eggshells. I think my wife is trying to tell me something.

Chelsea Frederick is an asocial introvert and avid fan of audio dramas.

It’s worse because nothing happened. If we had yelled and fought, at least I wouldn’t still be walking toward your turned back. Hoping.

J. Yejin An is loud on paper but quiet in person.

To her the infant weighed more than the vanished father, a silhouette, larger with each pseudo inhalation—a porcelain doll, its eyes closed.

Rees Sweeten isn’t full of peanut butter. He has a salty, acquired taste.

He was relieved to survive the end of the world. She was relieved she hadn’t. They met in the afterlife and wondered which of them was real.

Siobhan Rosenthal lives in New Zealand in a campervan. She likes hot showers and doesn’t get them enough.

Years later, they met for a coffee. She complimented his hair and he asked about her son. Outside, invisible birds twittered in the trees.

Hasen Hull (@HzHull) enjoys long journeys.