Cheryl’s Sturgeon Moon

Fiction by

Based on true events, as much as ghosts can be true.More

Bloodline

Bloodline

Fiction by

…after removing everything, he picked up a single Jordan, buried his nose inside, and inhaled the heady mix of rubber and leather. They would never be this perfect again.More

Two-Step

Two-Step

Essay by

I might be making a mistake, but at some point you have to be ready to look foolish. I watch you step on beat, watch Shane spin you and smile. More

Recall

Recall

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He can’t stay here. He can’t. More

Boxelder Bugs

Boxelder Bugs

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Boxelder bugs swarmed the cinder block wall at our back while we waited for our ride. A few fluttered, struggling to stay aloft in the thick air, their orange-red wing veins flashing. I cupped my hands, gently caught one. More

If You’ve Got a Light

If You’ve Got a Light

Fiction by

He craved the respite of smoke diffusing through his lungs, imagined it hitting him hard on an empty stomach. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up the issue until after dinner.More

The Goalie

The Goalie

Fiction by

My entire ten years of life on earth was spent keeping people from fighting with one another. “Not in front of the kid” were the famous words I heard. Grandma told me one time that I was an angel sent by God to help heal the family. None of my uncles nor my grandfather liked it much when my grandmother talked like that.More

David Tromblay

David Tromblay

BULL Interview by

People who had childhoods like mine did so comfortably numb. It was normal. It was all I ever knew. But here’s something I didn’t put in the book: in high school (after I got away from my father) I had friends who lived inside the foster care system. I used to go to their homes and hang out after school sometimes, because when I was little, I used to fantasize about being taken away and put into foster care. I knew it would be so much better.More

The View From Down Here

The View From Down Here

The Guiri Journals by

guiri (spanish): a foreigner, a tourist, usually a white person On Thursday nights here, I used to run an English language trivia which suffered middling attendance on account of I was not so good at properly calibrating the difficulty of the questions. The place where I hosted was and is called La Sra Pop. The staffMore

Dor

Dor

Fiction by

In Romania they had a word for this feeling of not quite belonging and feeling nostalgic for something maybe you ain’t really experienced and this great longing feeling—dor. We don’t have a word for that here in the Deep South. It’s just a lifestyle here.More

Boldly Stay

Boldly Stay

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I clung to the hope these people brought into my life: hope for a future full of grace and dignity; hope for a future with endless possibilities and knowledge at my fingertips; and hope for a life beyond poverty and pain—that included endless mounds of chocolate and cups of Earl Grey. More

Three Stories

Three Stories

Fiction by

Alex sighs. He is decades younger than Dave and not crippled by chemo and pill addiction and teens and trucks. On this day, as every day, he is not prepared to throw down over a breach of club rules. More

The Ogre

The Ogre

Fiction by

“O Father! – chiefly known to me by Thy rod – mortal or immortal, here I die”
H. Melville “Moby Dick”More

Two Stories

Two Stories

Fiction by

So sheepishly you swung your skull to headbutt me we wound up kissing. Briefly but that happened, don’t deny it. I tried to wink for the audience but your tears weighed down my lashes. More

White Buffalo

White Buffalo

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“They’re playing with a stacked deck,” he’d grouse. “Meanwhile, I’m getting dealt noth-ing but jokers.”More

=/+ until they get punched in the mouth, boxing and cyber writing in America

=/+ until they get punched in the mouth, boxing and cyber writing in America

Essay by

Why, then, is it so grotesque to imagine writing about writers living lives and writing? I’ll tell you. It’s because no one wants to read about writers living lives and writing, least of all writers, who are the last readers. I’m told.More

“The car had been through a reconstructed transmission, a busted carburetor, and was an absolute lush for Valvoline.” – Jordan Farmer, “Brothers”