by Amanda Hays Blasko
We’re poor until Graham almost dies.
Like many things, it starts simply enough—we’re outside in the sun, waiting in line for the new barbeque place. The restaurant presents as a mom and pop but is actually run by a megacorp, and it’s so committed to its “small business” aesthetic that people wait in line for hours for the business to open, hoping to receive a slab of paper-wrapped meat before it runs out and the line disperses. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Alice Cross
Ethan escapes as soon as Russell erupts. He remembers to grab his jacket, so he should be okay later when the temperature drops.
He knows what he would see if he dared to look back: their parents frozen in fear and shame. This bullying boy is their son, the product of their union. They await what they see as their due, their punishment for somehow failing him. Soda has been thrown in their faces. They will be grateful it was not the can. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Nathan Nicolau
I thought she had wings.
When she jumped, I expected them to jut out of her body in their full glory, like a mother bird about to hug her young. She plummeted ten stories onto the grey concrete instead. Her body flew down rapidly, almost forcefully, and was free-falling for only a few seconds. Had I blinked, I would have missed her flight. The scene looked like a series of projected photos, with the first photo showing her standing on the roof and then disappearing in the second. The third photo would be my blank face watching the scene unfold from a train stop not too far away. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Scott Solomon
When your spouse isn’t disappointed when a babysitter fails to show up.
When your spouse gives the name of a dependable babysitter to someone else.
When your spouse refuses to block the kids from hosting weekend sleepovers, thereby blocking the privacy required for sexual intercourse. Continue reading
by Mark Brazaitis
It’s midnight at Camp Four. Our guide is leaving for the summit. The woman he impregnated—my wife—is too weak to go on. Her water broke thirty minutes ago. Our guide hoped she would be the first person to give birth at the peak of the world’s tallest mountain.
“You’re leaving us?” I shout at him as he heads off toward the Balcony. “You aren’t going to help with the birth?”
He turns to me. “I’m a guide, not a doctor.”
“You would’ve been happy to help if she was giving birth on the summit.” Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
Hawaii Pacific Review 