Fiction
by Rhonda Browning White.
“We hadn’t talked since we left our West Virginia homeplace over two hours ago, both of us teary-eyed…”
by Azin Neishaboori.
“It was around noon on a spring day in the month of May when Ms. Abedi appeared at the intersection of Shahrara and Sattar Khan Streets on the west side of Tehran.”
by Kristen Swan Morrison.
“There’s an infiltration in the group. I sense it. I see it a mile away.”
by Christine Caya.
“Your affair with Connie Gervais starts the way you imagine most do.”
By Hollis Seamon.
“’Why?’ Althea leaned toward the splotchy-pale student who sat in her small office chair, his wide khaki thighs overflowing its seat.”
by Maija Stromberg.
“’Well, here’s the good Dr. Kaspar stuck out in a field in the middle of nowhere,’ LeeAnn said.”
by Leslie Patterson.
“I am a disease. My very existence poisons my father’s life.”
by Robert Oldshue.
“Let me tell you one thing: these know-it-alls who come around hawking computerized this and that to make Shady Rest work like the Holiday Inn have never worked in a nursing home.”