We were all ready, hundreds of us, lost in a sea of camouflage that spanned the enormous hangar floor, each clinging to a duffel bag stuffed to bursting with field gear, body armor, gas masks, last wills and testaments. All the things we would need in Afghanistan. The hangar doors were cranked open to reveal a grim, gray morning. Many of the assembled airmen had spilled out onto the tarmac, their bodies lying flat and motionless, like dead fish washed up on a sunless beach. Even more stood clustered around a nearby smoke shack.
Passing on
by Michael Talkington
Published on November 16, 2011
Idle hands or minds (I can’t remember which) are the devil’s workshop. My mom used to tell me that frequently. Years later I found that what she was really worried about was boredom. Boredom always led me down the road to mischief and usually resulted in some inappropriate behavior on my part, and she knew that.
Dish Towels
by Jon Bishop
Published on October 05, 2011
Ten days before Christmas, Alex saw her father, standing behind the home goods aisle, slip a stack of embroidered dish towels into his coat pocket. She felt a tinge of shock slowly ooze through her veins and out of her pores. She shivered. She moved closer to her father, rotating her head to look at the bright, celebrity-endorsed linens, among other items. He still stood some distance away, yet she noticed the sinful glisten of sweat.
Barely above a whisper: “Dad?”
Uncle Jerry
by Sarah Van Den Bosch
Published on August 08, 2011
My uncle Jerry lost his eye after falling out of a tree when he was 10-years-old. He had been in the backyard playing in the solitary maple right outside the kitchen window when he stepped on a weak branch. It snapped under him and Jerry was sent stumbling face-first into a set of branches before crashing onto the lawn. One of those branches snagged his left eye while the rest of his body fell downwards.
“Skewered it right out," he told me with a laugh, giving a tap to the black eye patch guarding the socket.
Here Comes Godot
by George Freek
Published on July 20, 2011
THE CHARACTERS
MR VLADIMIR, An unemployed gentleman, 40s, looks older
MS ESTRAGON, An unemployed lady, 40s, looks older
MR GODOT, Their visitor, elderly
MS GENTILE, A Social Worker, 20s
THE PLACE
The living room of Mr Vladimir and Ms Estragon
THE TIME
Recently
All That We Have to Do
by Rich Ives
Published on June 24, 2011
1
Jane Ablier changed the kitty litter. Jane Ablier filled the hummingbird feeder. Jane Ablier called her daughter Susan. Susan didn't answer. Was Susan out wrecking another pickup truck like she did when her last marriage failed? Maybe she was home and not answering, still in bed, with someone like... No, Jane Ablier didn't want to think about that.
Jane Ablier's cat Spud complained. Jane wanted to oblige Spud, but she couldn't figure out what he wanted. She forgot about it and tried to take a nap.
Social Networking
by Mathew Klickstein
Published on June 02, 2011
I woke up. It was colder than it had been the night before. I got up off my mattress on the floor, stepped in my boxers, and slid into my t-shirt on my way to the other side of my small room. I opened the door quietly and pattered to the thermostat of our apartment. On the way, I passed by one roommate’s room. Was surprised to find her awake this early, but not surprised to find her on Facebook, staring at the screen in her pajamas with her hair up.
The End of the Street
by Rachel S. Thomas-Medwid
Published on May 20, 2011
They are at the end of the street when she notices his silence, a third party sulking in the back seat. She pulls over, edging between two snow-covered cars. The first thing that strikes her about Sam is his stillness, his nose sharply outlined against the background. Why hadn’t she noticed earlier, the gradual process that has now conquered him? Laura usually monitors these stages like a doctor, aware of minuscule changes. That’s her job and here, in these circumstances, she has failed.
The car hums beneath them.
She wants to reach over but stops herself.
Never Saw It Coming
by Mike Jordan
Published on May 08, 2011
It’s Pay Day. We like Pay Day. I’m not sure how much is on this check. I’ve got another one coming before rent’s due. I’m thinking I can pay both the power and phone bill this month. Combined they amount to three hundred eighty-two dollars and thirty-seven cents. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll have some left over to play with. I opened it immediately. Turns out that was a Bad Idea. Keep in mind I still have to work my shift. The grand total, minus taxes, was three hundred eighty-four dollars and sixty-three cents. I spent the remainder of my time at work pissed.
Potato Peels
by Jennifer Houston
Published on October 15, 2010
My mother became a hippy after my second stepdad left with a cigarette hanging from his deceitful lips, and a beat up duffel bag full of his shit slung over his hunched back. Well, that’s how my mother described the farewell; I was at school when the bizarre scene unfolded for all the neighbors to witness. I know my mother howled expletives at him, and she threw her left sandal at him which missed and landed in Ms. Williams’ backyard. I know this because I had to go and retrieve the sandal when I got back from school, and Ms.
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