Stories from
August, 2022

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.