Jigsaw Puzzle by Robert Boucheron

On a clear December morning, I park the car amid banks of snow and scurry over a sheet of ice to the dermatology clinic. I am on time for my appointment, but the cold air stings. In the waiting room, the sun streams horizontally through […]

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Bubbe’s Shoes by Gila Fortinsky

We all laughed at Bubbe’s shoes. Real grandma shoes, well-worn, overworn; a sturdy, slightly thick heel, a nondescript brownish beige, hardly a color at all, tied with a thin shoelace looped through maybe three holes, textured pattern on the sides in a weak design infusion […]

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For Sale by Pat Berryhill

The room where she sits is gray, dull, and pale. Night is falling. And the moon is shining in through the blinds on the back window, casting shadows on the colorless walls. She sits with her back pressing flush against it and she stares at […]

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November 22 by Gary Duncan

He’s been sitting on the sidewalk for an hour, the umbrella man, his collar too tight, his feet falling asleep. He looks around and this is what he sees: the plaza, the county jail, the freeway sign, the book depository. Everything. He checks his watch, […]

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Gloves by Ellen Birrell

The single gloves I find in our orchards mostly have rough-out leather palms and long wrist gauntlets and sometimes tags: “Hecho en Mexico,” “Lobo, Ltd.” and “for citrus picking.” Citrus trees have thorns that would make a rose bush weep green with envy, so if […]

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Bubbles by Sasha Ockenden

At night she lies in her dusky bed and blows bubbles. They expand on the ridged loop of the dipping stick and with a puff of her breath they float away, dozens at a time. I hop around the room, dodging the piles of claustrophobic […]

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Waltz for a Cat by Raymond Sosa

Judy and I were lying in bed, alone together. We had opened the window to let in a breeze. The sounds of life at street level entered the room. Cars honked, birds chirped, and in the craziness of life, I felt safe. “Have I ever […]

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Like a Post by Elle Hurley

I’m not a violent person, but if I could go back in time and sucker punch the lady in the Nike tracksuit, I would. I remember the way she shaded her face as her teeth came down on her gum over and over. She smelled […]

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Barrel Farther by Ivan De Luce

They could have been driving down any street in America. The only things reminding her that she’d reached Los Angeles were the palm trees—just the occasional palm, squat and brown, barely rising above the single story houses. Junior hadn’t been driving for long, yet his […]

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