Where I’m Supposed To Be
By Jan English Leary I’m at work where I’m supposed to be, in a staff meeting, but I’m also supposed to be at home with my son, Davy, who now calls the nanny Mommy instead of me. If I were where I’m supposed to be, I’d be at home with my husband and child instead…
Irish Goodbye
By William Falo I looked at the town I loved, knowing my childhood home would soon become part of my past. I had been chosen to go to Dublin to record an album and perform. It was the opportunity I’d dreamed about for years. In the morning, I’d take a train from Galway, but first…
The Missing Snowman
By Joli Huelskamp “I don’t see it anywhere,” said my husband, emerging from behind the naked Christmas tree. “Are you sure we even hung it?” It was New Year’s Day, when we traditionally took down the holiday decorations. I was pretty strict about this, probably in response to my mother’s tradition of leaving her tree…
Butterfly Pea
By Afsana Triya “Why do you write every night?” asked my butterfly pea plant. I pretended I didn’t hear her, ignored her effort to make a conversation, and continued to write. She was quiet for a while. Then, “What is it you write?” She received no answer from me. It was already past midnight, so…
Steam
By Monica Kagan I soak in the bath and inhale you, barely visible through steam. Your wild hair casts a lattice shadow around your face and neck. You talk again about hiking through Turkey. “Now isn’t a good time,” I say. After my bath, we devour oven-baked croissants, the chocolate coating your lips. I lick…
The Old Prospector’s Final Claim
By Michael A. Clement Nobody attended the gold panner’s funeral except the gravediggers. They set the granite tombstone on his grave beside the gentle stream where he’d spent decades prospecting. The epitaph, inlaid with fool’s gold, read: As gold is tested by fire, A man’s soul is tested by failure. At night, the prospector’s ghost…
Falling
By Meg McGovern 11 pm. I am in a deep REM sleep when the light from my phone startles me awake. His name scrolls across the top. I fumble to grab it, my voice course, “What’s the matter?” “I’m in the hospital, Mom. I had a bad rock-climbing fall…about 20 feet down. The ER is…
CONGRATULATIONS to our Best of the Net Nominees
Andrea Tillmanns for The Right Side, The Wrong Bed (fiction) SE Wilson for losing it all (fiction) Karen Zey for Ticked (CNF) Lisa Brodsky for Somewhere Along the Way (CNF)
Talking Dirty
By Beth Sherman In the supply closet of the Paramus Walmart, Jeremy takes out his phone and his father’s credit card and dials 1-800-TITS. He’s hoping he’ll get Miranda but it’s all so random. When someone starts talking, Jeremy knows right away it’s not her. This girl is older, her voice less husky. What’s your pleasure,…
Marisol’s Death Plan
By Dipti Ranganathan Marisol twirled around the coffee table in her red, frilled dress, skimming the glass with her bandaged knees, clapping overhead in time to the Bee Gees’ greatest hits. She reached her crescendo with a classic Travolta move and bowed. We jumped to our feet and clapped. She looked around the room, as…
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