Stories

What kind of a Philosopher would cry softly on the subway over a sports team?

Rick Andrews is a writer and improviser from New York City. His computer is making his eyes hurt.

Citrus scent punches the air; each fruit fits perfect in my palm. In the hot grove, in a wicker wheelchair, my mother eats her final orange.

Lucy Smith is in love with words and sentences. She tweets at @lucysmithwriter and websites at lucysmithwriter.wordpress.com.

You fall asleep waiting for me again. I take a blanket from our bed and join you on the couch. When you wake you’ll know I’m home safe.

Tova Bitterman has been published on Nanoism once before.

The princess sobbed over the death of the dragon who’d imprisoned her. She’d loved that dragon. And the prince had killed him.

Daisy Roberts thinks Disney movies are amazing.

The topless towers toppled. The golden temple folded into the sea. In the ash a child was drawing with her finger, the design of a palace.

Daniel Galef (@DanielGalef) is lost to history.

P.S. The documents are enclosed. P.P.S. I have double-checked the signatures; I didn’t miss anything this time. P.P.P.S. I love you.

Daniel Galef (@DanielGalef) is a Montreal-based writer of poetry, humor, and fiction currently attending McGill University.

You left your briefcase on the table, so I brought it into the office.

I would like to speak to you when you get home.

Daniel Galef (@DanielGalef) is a person of letters, and also some tweets.

On the date, he noted four distinct verbal tics. Afterward she added to the tip he left. Both wondered what their friends had been thinking.

Daniel Galef (@DanielGalef) is trying to write longer and worse.

I drank a six-pack. Smoked a twenty-pack. Packed up my car and left. I picked up a hitchhiker, just to tell her how sad I felt.

Raymond Sloan lives in Ireland and never leaves.

At fifty-three, she hadn’t planned to raise a two-year-old but her granddaughter would grow up in a proper home.

Tova Bitterman has no bio.