“Making Angels” by Ben O’Hara

When it’s winter in my village, it snows. Every time it snows, there’s a murder. Every time there’s a murder, a snow angel will appear in my garden. My home is out of the way, an old ruin I inherited from my parents that sits atop the hill overlooking the village. The floorboards groan with …

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“Pigeon Coop” by Mary Ellen Gambutti

Two brothers, Albert and Mack, owned the brick tenement at 402 W. Broadway and operated a store-front swap shop there. The summer of 1928 Albert acquired a compact lawyer’s cabinet. Its solid, yet light frame and plain wood shelves sparked an idea. "Help me carry it to the roof,” Albert said to his brother. Affable, …

“Immobile” by Kyriakos Chalkopoulos

My most defining characteristic is that I remain immobile. Why do I remain immobile? Certainly not due to any beauty of the location I am at. And yet I remain immobile, since the world around me is the world of my ghosts. I do not remain immobile because one ghost made its appearance, and consequently …

“The Witch of Coulter Cove” by Richard Bower

Jay told me where I could get free candy. All we had to do was ask. I didn’t believe it. Jay had led me into trouble on our street before. Once, he lent me twenty dollars from his father’s wallet. His father was not pleased when he couldn’t buy his Friday twelve pack. His BO …

“Marco” by Karen Heslop

Pinpricks of sunlight simmered on the horizon as Donald stepped into the chilly river, whispering the incantation he had been given. He had stripped off his jeans and shirt and so was left in shorts and a thin undershirt. He was only a few steps in before he started to shiver. “Marco,” he whispered. The …

“The Black Sun Boy” by R.J. Jacobs

There was once a boy. He sat at the edge of world. He missed death that way.      Sometimes he would look down at the bottomless drop with its purple colours. Especially when somebody made the leap.      Mostly he just stared straight in front of him, at the nothing. His mind was empty of …

“Bad Bone” by Mehreen Ahmed

The cafe hummed a note of non-rhythmic jingle. I sat with a glass of sparkling water reading Fitzgerald’s Tender is the Night; deep in reading,I took a sip occasionally. As it stands, the passages of infidelity bothered me more than the stylistic complexity of the book. It resonated of something that I did not wish …

“The Pond” by Hadrian Hazzlit

See that old house yonder? That house that stood apart from the rest of the dwelling-houses? Yes, that house with broken windows and collapsing roofs and walls covered in vines. It was once a beautiful house, the most beautiful house of the village. But something sad and tragic happened in that house. But our story …

“Together Again” by Dennis Doty

“Mom, what's this?” asked Vickie. She held hand showing a small silver bar with two pins soldered to the back of it. “Where did you get that,” said Barbara. “Give it to me.” She snatched it from Vickie's hand and sat on the sofa clutching it tight to her breast. “I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't …

“Mademoiselle Berthier” by Steve Carr

My French isn't as good as I'd like it to be. I speak it haltingly and with little flair. It's obvious from the way I speak French, that I'm an American. Sitting on the bench next to Mademoiselle Berthier I lean toward her and whisper, “Tu as de beaux cochons.” She puts a lace handkerchief …