by A.G. Travers
Part One
I got Happy after I burned down the Peterson place, way back in the summer of 09’. In all fairness, the fire had been an accident, nobody was hurt, and it was as much Connor Peterson’s fault as it was mine. My mother, however, showed very little interest in these excuses, and even less in the concept of ‘fairness’. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Donna Obeid
Every new moon they arrived, the People from Elsewhere.
I’d stand upon the shore with my angel-trumpet earrings and banana leaf crown and gaze into the offing, waiting for the boat to appear. Sometimes there’d be a whole family which made the wind blow strong. Sometimes a man and his wife who could change the color of the day, and occasionally, when the sky surrendered itself, there’d be an older woman who’d come all the way alone, little more than a notebook and a knapsack slung across her shoulder, seeking her soul. Continue reading
by Marie Henry
Yeah, things are grim. But not all of it. I get buzzed into my bank which is almost pandemically empty. And am invited to sit down in a cushy chair by the lovely teller seated on the other side of the plexiglass.
Filed under Fiction
by Gregory Tarsiscis Janetka
It was late afternoon when I entered the bar. The sun was still high and shone through the small square windows, hitting the rough white walls and reflecting throughout. The place was inside an old hotel dating from the 30s. Perhaps even earlier. It was unclear if its current incarnation was a rare find to casually gloat about on social media or a setting within which to sneak the other woman in order to partake in dirty filthy things amidst blindingly fresh white linens. Maybe both. It smelled of wisteria and the nouveau riche. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
Hawaii Pacific Review 