Tag Archives: Fiction

Everything Will Be Taken Away

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

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Tinnitus

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

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The Graduation Present

by J.G. Alderburke

When Viola opened her eyes, her husband was gone. She let her arm flop across his side of the bed and sighed. She supposed he could be in the shower or downstairs somewhere but the house sounded too quiet for that. Viola dressed and wandered into the kitchen. She filled two mugs with coffee then walked to the front window. Her husband was on the lawn digging at something Viola couldn’t see. Continue reading

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Christmas Eve Skeleton

by Mike Schoeffel

She is 28 weeks pregnant when she overdoses in the backseat of a rusty Honda Accord. Heroin, of course. It’s always heroin. Bad batch going around. Happens every couple of months. No overdose calls, no overdose calls, then BOOM: three in one shift. Continue reading

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The Third Most Valuable Spice

by Phoebe Yeoh

“Did you know,” my grandmother quipped, “that cardamom is one of the most expensive spices in the world?” We were baking in her big yellow kitchen, our annual tradition on Christmas Eve. Snow fell softly outside the big bay window, glass steamed up with the scent of her famous Pebernødder. “Saffron and vanilla are the only ones that cost more.” She kissed me on the cheek and leaned down to pop a little cookie dough ball into my mouth, just as she always had for the past twenty-three years. Continue reading

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