Category: Prose
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Kiss Cecilia for Me
Fiction by Kaitlin Ruether The first camera I picked up had a flashbulb that popped when you pressed the button. My first picture had Mom in a blue floral dress as she straightened the records on a maple shelf, her mousy hair pulled tight.
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Mars Renaissance: Eight Things a Man Should Know How to Do
Fiction by Tim Conrad They are sending Lisa and me down to the capital for a statewide charity function that our office doesn’t care about. We’ve been invited during our peak season, and our boss Gretchen tells us that someone needs to go as a show of solidarity.
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The Convert
Fiction by Dani Heinemeyer +++Judith starts believing in God after watching the History Channel special, “The Real Face of Jesus.” She sits alone in her living room, the television projecting faint blue holograms onto the coffee table’s mahogany surface.
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Argos
Fiction by Clare Wilson The bartender’s t-shirt declared, Caution, Hot! +++Marvin eyed the splashy script as she poured him another double of Bulleit. He downed it in one gulp, before she had reached her next customer.
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Maroon Bells
Nonfiction by Josh Potter Summer, 1976: +++My parents late twenties, newly dating, visit the Maroon Bells wilderness outside of Aspen. These two people, John and Suzie, are in love, will inevitably conceive my brother and I, and will return to this place again and again though neither of them know it yet.
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The First Annual Landsome Goat and Garden Party
Fiction by B.C. Edwards Every attempt to venture into the kitchen or deeper ended in a polite but firm herding back to the porch. The unlit living room and dark upstairs remained grey mysteries and whatever secrets were locked in the Landsome cellar, all the unearthed Spanish gold, the nuclear codes, the disembodied murdered vagrants,…
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Standard Operating Procedure
Fiction by Kyle Swensen For most warehouse operations, there are standards of procedure. If you see something, say something. Like a mouse. Or a bird. Or a pile of shit. If you mess up, fess up.
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Seen & Overheard: A Year on the Bus in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside
Nonfiction by Leanna McLennan 12 September A man in a torn grey jacket staggers onto the bus. +++“It’s the postmodern god. It’s the postmodern god,” he says to the bus driver.