Maren didn’t notice me until I was almost near enough to whisper in her ear. “Ma’am, the store is closing now,” I stated. “You will have to leave your items here and resume your shopping tomorrow.”
Maren Markham’s squeal made …
He scorned wearing a mask. He died on a ventilator.
Peggy Gerber is a poet and short story writer from Teaneck, NJ. Some of her works have been featured in Daily Science Fiction, Spillwords, Reedsy, and the anthology “Poetry in …
When I make the mistake of looking at the cashier’s face at GreatMart, I see his right eye slide down his cheek. I leave my bags and rush out. Driving home, I avoid glimpsing myself in the rearview mirror.
I’ve …
Genilee had made seven masks, all floral—two of which reversed to classic black, suitable for formal occasions, should she ever again have one. She had a standing order for grocery delivery, used alcohol wipes on mail and package deliveries, and …
Now that we’re after, I’ll ask; what were we before?
Christopher Cosmos was raised in the Midwest and attended the University of Michigan as the recipient of a Chick Evans Scholarship. He’s an author and Black List-screenwriter whose debut novel, …
Had Robert Frost lived where I do on Lake Norman, would he have written a poem about pine trees and not one about birches? Pine trees are not as limber as the birches that Frost writes about, so no young …
white and fragrant as it is has to take the place of a man who called all slippery with excuses, and you know better than to believe them because love is a pinch and you’re good with that, and you …
I heard this short tale around a campfire nearly forty years ago, thirty miles deep into the Bob Marshall Wilderness of Montana. Karl was then looking at his mid-seventies and we’d all walked in thirty miles to the China Wall–the …
