Fiction

FICTION By Steven Lang She was short and thick, with dry, blood­shot eyes and skin as white as the belly of a fish. Even when she was crying—which was often—tears rarely came. She’d rub the backs of her hands into her eyes until they reddened,…

FICTION By Mike Guerin She had been off in Aus­tralia, and quare places after that, for about twenty years. She only came home for her parents’ funeral. Carbon monox­ide poi­son­ing, like the canary in the ad. There was no carbon monox­ide poi­son­ing long ‘go ‘cos…

FICTION By Laura Leigh Morris “I guess we should talk about Leander.” She’s cute in a ruddy cheeked, out­doors­man sort of way. Not the type of woman I picture with my husband. I stab at the salad with my fork, wave at her to dig…

FICTION By Dina Cox The toy sur­prise at the bottom of the cereal box turned out not to be a fidget spinner or packet of magic markers, or minia­tur­ized plastic batting helmet, but a message in a bottle, a very small bottle, for­mer­ly a bottle containing…

FICTION By Jane Snyder What kind of world was it, Dave won­dered, where a woman could put herself above a man? He was ready for this one. “Whoa there, Sis,” he said when he felt her hand cup his gen­i­tals under the jump­suit. “You play, you pay.” She…

FICTION By Chris Daly 1. Pre­lim­i­nary Report, with notes and “eyes-only” mate­r­i­al, includ­ing  recov­ered com­mu­ni­ca­tions, from the days prior to the inci­dent which has  come to the atten­tion of so many, sub­mit­ted by Sr. Vol­un­teer Patrol Officer  Childe Gordon, BS Crim­i­nal Justice Theory, BA English Lit, Bonito…

FICTION By Michael Oatman and Jackson Smith Because every brother man’s life is like swing­ing the dice, right?   Pearson stretched out at the hos­pi­tal picnic table. His eyes forward. His hair slicked back. His new heart pumping, pumping, pumping. He had done well over this handful…

Stonecoast Review The Lit­er­ary Journal of the Stonecoast MFA at the Uni­ver­si­ty of South­ern Maine War Birds Fiction By Jen­nifer Lee GI Joe 1945  The trucks parade down Con­sti­tu­tion Avenue. I have prac­ticed the steely glint in my eye, holding my beak par­al­lel to the horizon…

FICTION By Erin Jourdan Ksjhe was trying to sleep but the smoke from the fires was every­where. He went to his com­put­er and tried to appease it by typing fire, fire fire fire fire fire fire fire fire into the box. I see you. I…

FICTION by Midge Raymond She’s stand­ing in line at the reg­is­tra­tion table when she sees him, two writers ahead. Sun-spritzed brown hair, strong hands. A hint of crow’s feet indi­cat­ing he’s maybe fortysome­thing. No wedding ring. When he leans over the table to sign a…