They chatted about parties and unfair curfews as they fixed their hair in front of the mirror and the girl in the stall ate her lunch.

Andrea Lynn Koohi (@AndreaKoohi) is a writer from Toronto.

Its ring is shrill, yet Bettie ignores it, hoping that the caller (a daughter-in-law, or a son even) might visit instead.

Laura Besley writes fiction in the precious moments her children are sleeping.

We argue over what to call it, that place where the children die.

R. Gatwood is precise.

Since you died, two thoughts keep hitting me one after the other: “Wish you were here” and then “You didn’t want to be here.”

R. Gatwood is concise.

I forgot your birthday this year. Maybe that’s progress.

R. Gatwood’s fiction has appeared or is forthcoming, depending on your temporal location, in Apex Magazine.

He lived long enough to see his favorite beach vanish and his favorite food go extinct.

R. Gatwood (@iwantanewhead) is the emergent consciousness of a spectacularly inefficient library shelving system.

He lies bleeding in her lap, and he says, Tell me a story, and she laughs through tears and says, I love you, and he says, No, a true story.

R. Gatwood (@iwantanewhead) tells many stories, mostly false ones.

June will be another author spotlight, a special month featuring five stories by R. Gatwood each Wednesday.

We moved into a two-bedroom place: one bedroom for the both of us, the other for Nate’s train set. I was just married, and I compromised.

Andre Brito lives in San Francisco, CA.

The beat increased as he stood by the subwoofer feeling the song in his chest as she danced across the room and slowly kissed someone else.

Frederick Charles Melancon doesn’t dance.