Fiction
Fiction Highlights…
Trace
by JW Burns
“Sleep fumes steaming the walls…Fridge is bare racks and a heretical smell, on the kitchen counter salt and pepper and this morning's slapdash of sun.”
His Father’s Ashes
by E.P. Lande
“Hiking up Mount Katahdin was not easy, but Karl had done it a number of times over the years, always with the encouragement of his father. Now, with his father’s ashes in his knapsack, Karl felt his father was with him, and that he was fulfilling his father’s last wish…”
Feast and Famine
by Deniz Ertem
“Martine does not begin by eating hearts. That takes a while. She builds up to it.”
The Ledger
by Rob Debenebetti
“The woman responsible for delivery carried a ledger in which each death had already been recorded, complete with date and cause. When questioned, she explained that her role was not to determine accuracy, only to notify.”
The Care Liaison
by Henrick Karoliszyn
“I was a Care Liaison…We listened, observed, absorbed. We spoke calmly and avoided promises that might later need further explanation.”
Hans and Greta
by Ronald Wetherington
“‘This story about us is almost entirely wrong!’ I said, slapping the book closed. I was sitting with my grandson in the small Hessian village of my youth, reading him fairy tales from my German childhood.”
Solitary
by Davor Mondom
“Whether by neglect or design, the strangers left him behind. If he wanted to, D2867 could look through his window slit and watch his fellow inmates being taken away.”
The Lost Boy with a Heart of Gold: A Fable
by Alicia DeFonzo
“Fate looked through his mirror of maps and mazes, as the grand clock tolled, echoing the centuries. The violet layers of the galaxy and moons were as they should be.”
From the Rat’s Throat
by Itto and Mekiya Outini
“Outside, I broke the ice on a mud puddle and rinsed the rat juice from my hands. Then I lit a cigarette and walked for a while, thinking.”
The Terror of Turquoise Elfcap
by Sarah Oakes
“Before the terror, the town of Turquoise Elfcap bustled with life. It was an old town, that had used the mushrooms to dye the wood of their houses, each one a different shade of blue….the caps bided their time for revenge.”
“The Return of the Shrew”
by A. D. Canareira (trans. by Clare Gaunt)
“‘On a plain in Southwestern America, many, many years ago, during the Dust Bowl, or perhaps still today, there lived a tiny and very lonely little shrew.’”