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Fiction

Spring 2009 Issue

Elsie and the Ladder By Abraham Schneider

The first night I met Elsie I had just finished an evening of summertime carousing. It was high June, with ghosts of warm air floating outside. I returned to my bedroom in my apartment with an unopened bottle of beer. The condensation had turned to droplets, and they slid down the sides and made the label soggy.

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Living Remains By Dennis Mahoney

The earliest memory I have of my mother, she’s digging a hole in the back yard. It’s raining and the ground is all black mud. A clump of sod is stuck to her calf, and after a while she puts the shovel down and digs with her hands[…]

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A.D. By Brian Yansky

One day it wasn’t there. I woke to the dark, the same dark that had blanketed my room when I’d gone to bed. The clock said eleven. I opened the blinds and looked out over my black back yard, and it was, as in the late night, formless, the trees at the far edge hulking, indistinct shapes[…]

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Whu Rllaey Worte Bradbury: A Coqiluloum By Terry Hertzler

Winner, 2008 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Fleolw hisortnais & sekrees ov tutrh, wocelme tu the beuiftaul becheas ov Devenr on the Ilse ov Coralodo! Snice tihs coqiluloum iz metineg tu dicusss mteatrs ov sifancgniice tu ar cunontiing msisoin ov hisortcail rveceroy[…]

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These Hundred Trills By Rachel May

Winner, 2008 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
The wrong road, I had to drive three hours north, through nothing: flat land, no trees, ripples of air against the pavement, toward the horizon, where there was more of nothing. Only the slightest arch to the land, anywhere. No cars. No trees.

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Fall 2008 Issue

Artists Hill By Djelloul Marbrook

If there is anything of Salome in a woman, Bo believes something hapless in him will call it out. He’s the ideal witness to a woman’s bad behavior. And that’s why chagrin rises like vomit to his mouth when he stands on the ridge overlooking the south plat of the cemetery one September dawn and […]

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The Necessity of Maintenance and Repair By Fred Setterberg

“What’s that I smell?” demanded my father, cracking open the kitchen door, his face materializing in the jamb, his wide eyes ravenous, lordly, insatiable. Mom glanced up from the countertop, her right hand clenching an enormous blue sponge coated with Ajax. Already the butter yellow tiles were gleaming in tribute to her labors, the hacksaw […]

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April 2008 Issue

House of Spiders By Poe Ballantine

Niagara Falls, New York, everyone end of the world nervous: plants closing, the lake poisoned, people getting out, the few left given up. Max on welfare, Magger the acidhead on welfare too, healthy men in their twenties sitting at the bar till their money ran out. I poured drinks for them. Benny watched from the corner. The girls slithered in and out.

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March 2008 Issue

Grateful, Thankful By Jendi Reiter

I could have avoided all that trouble if only I had remembered the capital of North Dakota. Normally I took schoolwork seriously, but it had been a late night at band practice and I decided to give myself a pass on memorizing stupid places I would never live. I couldn’t see my mother moving us […]

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July 2007 Issue

Desert Vacation By Brent Robison

Winner, 2006 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
The sky is one shade of blue, horizon to horizon. It’s glossy and hard, a vast overturned bowl of fine china baked to brilliant sapphire. Under it, a broken line of humans stretches long and thin across the flats, then bunches thick at steep places where footing is treacherous.

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