
We got to Ipswich by market day somehow, a small miracle given the state of our cart, which was always just a crooked cobblestone from ruin. There had been no robbers on the road down either, luck be praised. Though, …
We got to Ipswich by market day somehow, a small miracle given the state of our cart, which was always just a crooked cobblestone from ruin. There had been no robbers on the road down either, luck be praised. Though, …
Early that morning Bill noticed something odd across the street. The neighbor’s dog, Abby was pacing back and forth restlessly.
“I better go check on Eddie,” he called to his wife Sue.
“What’s wrong?” She hurried into the living room.…
Gun loaded. Shot fired. Missed. Again. Missed. Third time lucky.
Based in the UK, I write for enjoyment. I write on a variety of themes but most recently have been writing more poetry with the occasional flash fiction murder mystery. My …
I am happy to be going somewhere, anywhere, alone with my dad. At the same time, it doesn’t feel right, seem right. He never takes us places by himself except a memorable few times to the bar when Mom is …
The paramour’s brag drew laughter. “He’d never cheat on me.”
Laura Jo is a freelance writer and editor, published poet and co-author of the book Legendary Locals of Jacksonville. Her poetry and short fiction have been published in national …
Rob peered out from behind the Sunday sports section. Across the room he observed his wife Shelia, doing some sort of handwork with tiny needles. Crocheting, maybe? He didn’t know. Had no clue. Didn’t care. She was dressed in a …
A solid-bodied woman, well past youth, struggles along a late night street of Cheyenne, Wyoming, U.S.A with two boys in tow, who might be three and six years old. She lugs a large, well-worn suitcase; manifestly heavy, tied and cross-tied with …
Fears arose as she rose. She decided to rise anyway.
Tracy Rose Stamper is a dancer at heart, in mind, of body, and with words. The most significant word that she has written lately is Rose. Because this time is …
Gods, he hated the sewers.
Not because of the stench or the pile of shit laid on the side. It was actually a convenient way to get around unseen by human eyes.
He would have liked it, if it wasn’t …
She answered,
“Yes?”
The next day, her accounts were empty.
Rachael Ikin is an associate editor with Clare Songbirds Publishing House, Auburn NY. She is a two-time nominee for the Pushcart Prize, and twice nominated for the CNY Book Award. …