It took me a while to believe it when he told me. Eventually I made him walk on water to prove it—took the train to Coney Island and got pretzels on the boardwalk. We talked about our dads for a bit. I thought I’d have more to ask him. Nina Evans is a humble genius with a heart of gold. Besides Bruce Springsteen and Whitney Houston on a technicality, she is New Jersey’s finest export. Currently studying Literature and Music at the New School, Nina expects to work in a wholly unrelated field, probably sending emails ..read more

The day begins the same: a cup of coffee on the swing, watching the old willow tree sway in the wind, branches whipping the ground like forty lashes gnawing away at the life she’s lived. Eleanor glances reflexively at the empty spot next to her. The mornings were always nice. Emily is a new mom, a wife, a cat mom, an editor, a writer, and a singer—words and labels that don’t matter much to anyone, but to her, they are the portrait of a full and growing life. She hopes to expand that life with more words each day ..read more

It has rained today It is raining lightly now Sitting on the front porch I smell sweet wood burning The wind has picked up The drops are falling slanted A driveway puddle is growing I notice it is cooler Covering up with a blanket I listen as my rocker complains Dan Johnson was born in California and grew up in Illinois. Now retired, he spent over twenty years as a high school physics teacher and school administrator who also loved writing poetry ..read more

The morning moon blots against the blue sky like a thumbprint dipped in milk. A strange, off-kilter day. Grandma Lil in her kitchen sipping peyote tea. She still had a stash from that lost year in Mexico. Some bad trips. Numbs her headaches. Visions of Lucy in trouble are clear. Nina Welch’s short stories appear in Literally Stories online anthology in February and March, 2024.  Her poetry appeared in Rats Ass Review, Aaduna Press for National Poetry Month, Girls on Film, Fandango 8 Poetry, and Fandango 8 Poetry and Short Stories. She was awarded first place ..read more

Today is the day of the dead. Not the Dia de los Muertos holiday, but the anniversary of the day I died. See the white cross at the curve up ahead? It’s mine. The faded rainbow of plastic flowers? Mine, too. Wait, there’s something new. A stuffed unicorn! Someone remembered! Rita Riebel Mitchell writes in the Pinelands of South Jersey. Her work appears in Flash Fiction Magazine, Versification, 101 Words, and others. Read more at RitaRiebelMitchell.com ..read more

The story of the week for April 15 to 19 is… Legacy by Cate Covert ..read more

I wish I could explain it; I don’t really understand it. But I know it’s true that it is all my fault. All the trouble I’ve created. I never have understood my own strength. I just can’t stop: it is who I am, what I do. I am truly sorry. Robert Ludemann is happily retired and at his desk writing ..read more

Sister apple trees, one fuller than the other, transform to white confections every April. Tirelessly, bees buzz from bloom to bloom. A long rain nourishes roots and hidden tendrils. Infant fruit withstands wind, insect borers, and waterless days. Freckled young apples grow, blush pale red, ripen, ready to be eaten. Deborah lives and writes in northwestern Montana. Her stories can be read in The Ekphrastic Review, Thin Air Magazine (Online) and The Potato Soup Journal among others ..read more

Under a Saturday sun in the church parking lot, a poet behind the mic says, “I had brain surgery seven days ago. Buy my chapbook and I’ll show you my scar.” Weaving through the dwindling crowd, I approach with a ten and glimpse jagged line breaks on every beautiful page. Guy Biederman lives on a houseboat, serves as valet to a dainty Tuxedo, and writes during catnaps which are short but fortunately frequent ..read more

Two robots fell madly in love, made possible by their companionship modulators degrading. They wanted a child, so they took mechanisms from each of their bodies and built a Smallbot. Each year, they added more pieces. Over time they gave their child everything, down to their last nut and bolt. This is Jared’s second 50-word story. He is not a robot parent… or is he ..read more