I had always hoped that the day I found out I was going to be a father would be an amazingly special day the way boys often dream of such things from their youth. I envisioned music from unseen musicians, slow-motion leaps through the air with birds fluttering around my head, the smell of pomegranate or various citrus fruits subtly combining with the natural flora of the field I was leaping through, and of course, casually rolling down a grassy hill with my soul mate while harps of gold and silver soared through the skies above. Continue reading Fiction | The Curse of Old McBoaty: Part 1 by Norton McClure
The only time my childhood babysitter got away with telling me a scary story was when I was too young to know what was good for me. Amy and my sister had discussed the tale before and figured it to be about time I got my fair share of the creeps. What none of us picked up on at the time was the truly unsettling subtext within the tale soon to be told; after all, we weren’t the originally intended audience. Continue reading Nonfiction | Broken Windows: A Glimpse into Suburban Anxieties as Revealed by Obscure American Folklore by Tom Garback
He stood at the edge of his village, his feet cold and sore in the sand, and squinted. The sea wasn’t red this morning. It wasn’t green or gold or shimmering, it wasn’t writhing or frothing or tossing – it was just blue. Still, and blue. Continue reading Flash Fiction | Blue by Kelsey Day
A crowd of people gathered under the streetlamp on the corner of Alta and 5th. Moths clumsily tumbled under the electric bulb, each struggling to stay above the dust kicked-up by nervous boot heels.
Mike clutched the side of his jacket and held it against his belly. He felt sleepy and sore. His eyes moved sluggishly across the other faces in the crowd.
“Can’t say he didn’t have it coming,” said an old man through frayed beard hairs. Continue reading Fiction | Gonzales, California by Christopher Seiji Berardino
The disease, known as Compound X, started a few months ago and affected my family almost immediately with the loss of my mother. Since the day she got sick, our lone source of income is the money I get from the Coalition, a renegade group of researchers fighting to find a cure. At the time, the only option was to let the disease overtake you, or to take pills to get the job done faster. Continue reading Fiction | Compound X by Talia Santopadre