Stories from
August, 2022

The pen you left me ran dry. So instead I turned to the typewriter I bought myself.

Rina Olsen is a rising sophomore.

Saturday night. We put on our costumes, pick up our scripts, and have the argument.

Jon Bradmore loves tomatoes and black-capped chickadees.

They told me the thief wouldn’t notice if I stole that moldy stuffed animal from his vault of riches. But how he wept.

T. S. Burkhardh (@CarewornStoryt1) is a writer and artist residing in Michigan and working on too many projects.

Slots, vid-poker, peepshows—I thumbed dirty bills into every machine but the kitschy Zoltar. It didn’t take a crystal ball to see my future.

@DanielGalef lets it ride.

After saying my goodbyes, I cried in the waiting room. A stranger next to me whose son had died asked me to borrow a pen.

Nadia Campbell is a writer of short stories.