Category Archives: Fiction

Hungry Commuter

by Asher Proctor-Jasper

The man in the truck next to me tore open the paper surrounding his double western bacon cheeseburger from Carl’s Jr. He flopped the barbecue sauce-drenched sandwich onto his bottom teeth, clenching down with his top teeth, and tearing it away with his dirty hand. Continue reading

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The Roundabout

by Sacha Bissonnette

I heard the screeches and saw the tire marks every week. Many drivers failed to use the roundabout properly. I tried to tell them to do something about itand I don’t even drive. I know it’s a problem because my balcony’s right there. That’s where I drink my green tea. Continue reading

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Ship

by Reynard Laverna

The wave crests, a great sunbeam descends and cuts the water in two and the waves drift separately, before thudding against the breakers and launching a light mist over me. The sun finishes its descent and its final rays hold the mist upwards and spread a glittering across the horizon, then drop the chilled water across my body. The dark starts with this film of cold, settling onto my bare arms and seeping through my shirt. Continue reading

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Kindness and the Divan

by Paula Eglevsky

Kindness is a mark of faith, and whoever is not kind has no faith.
– Muhammad

Moya Tetushka’s house had a parlor that was always cold.  The curtains rustled and the shadows in the room changed from dark to darker throughout the day.  There were odds and ends in it; mismatched furniture, peacock feathers, and plastic ferns that seemed alive.  The family used the parlor for special occasions like birthdays, when they stood around cakes made of carrots, or holidays, when napkins were folded into tulips.  Fanny remembered being at her aunt’s house during Easter.  She didn’t mind the curtains moving on their own, or how the rug had tea stains.  Auntie Moya kept caramels in the parlor and Fanny ate them, kneeling on a sofa that looked like a chair mushed into a bed. Continue reading

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Elegy for an Artist

by Elaine Fiedler

It was known as the MacKenzie touch—the portrait painter’s knack for capturing the perfect luminous moment of his subject’s life. I was lucky. I knew the great John MacKenzie. Continue reading

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