By John R. Herrman Fucking phone! It’s the editor. Piece ready? Just polishing it up. The lie comes easily. She…
By Melissa Maney The once unattainable had become decrepit. Faded hair dye, skinny body, sloppy kisses, stripper money. Jameson and…
By Bea Hawkins I came to you small and innocent. Porcelain and plump, pickled in peculiarity. You came to me…
By Dianne Moritz I never questioned why. Bert mixed martinis while Mother wrapped peanut-butter sandwiches in a brown paper bag…
By Rob Dinsmoor The cancer was inoperable. The oncologist said that, when the pain started to become significant, treatment would…