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Her first dinner after the divorce was pasta. The noodles looked like wavy lines drawn by a child trying to understand the sun.
Nathan Patton keeps it real, but also fictionalizes it.
Her first dinner after the divorce was pasta. The noodles looked like wavy lines drawn by a child trying to understand the sun.
Nathan Patton keeps it real, but also fictionalizes it.
His unconscious sister on the floor, an emaciated mutt giving him the eye, and discreet piles of shit everywhere. Time to save the dog.
Marcelle Heath is a fiction writer and assistant editor for Luna Park. She lives in Portland, Oregon.
Stacking cans was a dream. To be back in the store, adrift in soft light and music, no longer cold, unkempt, with an unread cardboard sign.
Derek Dexheimer lives in Seattle. He is working on a novel.
He’d give it six days. That would provide plenty of time, should he change his mind, to remove the extra pills in Saturday’s pillbox.
Bruce Harris enjoys relaxing with a Marxman.
She drops me off at the house where the bony-elbow lady lives. Promises to come back for me soon. Sometimes I pretend to miss her.
Lisa Potts (@LisaMPotts) writes YA and lives in the Midwest along with her kids and various shelter animals.
There was a moment’s hesitation as she reconsidered living with his mistake. Doubt, hope, panic, and the train hit her all at the same time.
Susan Howe is a purveyor of short and even shorter stories. She lives in England.
When the last machine died, they planted its cogs and pawls and pinions by the river. The soil was rich, the water sweet. Sunlight abounded.
Dennis Y. Ginoza is working towards his MFA in Writing at Pacific University. He lives on the Kitsap Peninsula.
It’s almost Halloween and I only feel like being Thomas Pynchon.
Rick Hale will obtain 30 banana splits and one English degree in 2011. He is here.
The storm was at its peak when they came seeking shelter. What luck, I still had some space left under the stones in the manor house floor.
C. William Hinderliter lives in Phoenix and has read entirely too many Victorian murder mysteries.
They never notice that each year fewer of them go home. And they never notice that each year there are more creatures in the woods.
Jamie Rosen writes a lot of stuff. Some of it is @dollarbinblues.