Latte Archives: Tags “short shorts”

Spring 2017 Issue

Tomorrow This Will All Be Gone, If We’re Lucky By Maris Finn

A petrified frog’s corpse floated down from a rafter in the garage, weightless because its bones had become powder. Death by damp garage. We held a vigil in our kitchen trashcan, sprinkled coffee grounds over it one rushing morning. Edmund, we called him. Long live….

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Diagnosis By Michael J. Coene

Cigarette smoke wafted in. I couldn’t see it but I could smell it. The densely acrid odor was wafting its way in. I was in the corner. In my apartment, I was sitting in the corner, on the floor. I was scratching my own head. I had a lot of hair for a guy my age….

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Chameleons By Curtis Vandonkelaar

Winner, 2016 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Michael’s afraid the TV will blow up again. Two others have burst right here in this living room. He pads his fingers against the TV’s black face. He loves the television. When he pulls his fingertips from the screen, they’re gray, powdered in fine dust….

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Winter 2016 Issue

Attached By Jessica Hutter

Winner, 2015 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Ms. Kramer was explaining the difference between infinitives and imperatives to Lily Spencer for — not kidding — the fifth time when Jarod Troutman slapped a pair of cuffs on her. Half a pair, technically. The other ring was attached to his own wrist…

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Beneath By Jessica Hutter

Winner, 2015 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Homecoming starts after sunset.
The crowd spills in from the three directions: East lot, North lot, and Weir lot — the one named after the teacher who died the year before we came….

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Spring 2015 Issue

Picnic at Angola By John Haggerty

Winner, 2014 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
All through the hot summer of 1957, whenever they had the time, Patricia wanted to picnic down near the prison at Angola. She liked to be right up close, as close as they could get without the guards shooing them away. She and Clemson would drive down one of the levees until the fences were in view…

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Trouble Brewing By Kristin Walrod

Mom said, it’s important for me to serve, and that’s all she said about it, nothing about my dead little brother or Dad’s grief poured into the hood of broken-down cars in our front yard, or about the trouble I was in with the county and school and that other thing. She said that, then packed up and joined the Army, like she’s some eighteen year-old stumbling drunk into the recruitment office…

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Spring 2014 Issue

How To Be A Cowboy By S. Brady Tucker

Winner, 2013 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
By the time he gets there the calf is dead and has been for some time — the meat will be sour and rank by the time it gets to the hooks in the ruined barn; it won’t even be good enough to grind up for stew meat. He sees dollar signs dead in the water, but what’s another lost five hundred dollars at this point?

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Fall 2013 Issue

With All the Trouble Jesus Went Through He Should at Least Get a Jelly Bean By Heather Tucker

Winner, 2013 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Dad’s taken Charlie ahead to ball practice while I continue to scour Sideline 22 for Mom’s uterus. Mom’s always losing something. I don’t mind being left to carry out search and rescue. I suck at ball. Besides, any minute now Lori Penter will be coming home from her piano lesson. She’s forbidden to talk to me on account of the holy war, but if she was allowed, she’d say hi — maybe.

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Winter 2012 Issue

Swallows By Christie B. Cochrell

Winner, 2011 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Isabel would attribute her undoing to that summer in Crete. She would recall how she was minding her own business, reproachlessly conducting research on the iconography of 14th-Century frescoes, when she found God…

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