“How many candles do you see? Mother? How many? Can you see how many? Sit up. It’s your daughter Eve. Count, Mother. There are 69.” Continue reading Stories No. 86 – John Francis Istel

Lorenzo Rivas stirred a seventh packet of sugar into his coffee. He wondered how much of his twelve-minute break he’d spent staring at the barista’s arm. Continue reading Stories No. 84 – C. Adán Cabrera

Xenophobia By Bobbi Steele I tried not to look at the mirror in front of me, but it was drawing me in. The tugging on my eyes pulled them further up from the sink, to the faucet and finally to the edge of the mirror. There were lint and dust covering the sink in the back, and I used my finger to slowly push it … Continue reading Stories No. 83 – Bobbi Steele

The Mattress By Amber Baird Samantha told him about the Russians. Her parents told her not to, of course, but she had to tell someone, and Charlie was her best friend. He sat beside her, under the tree in her backyard, and squinted at her through the sun filtering through the leaves. The remains from their picnic lunch were scattered around them — empty store-brand … Continue reading Stories No. 82 – Amber Baird

Voodoo By Gary Singh Slim occupies a vinyl bar stool, accompanied by a personalized chalice with hoppy German lager direct from the tanks downstairs. His name is carved onto the side of the mug. Camille’s alto voice, a younger, more dusty version of Edith Piaf, floats in like counterpoint to the chaos of sports on nine televisions. She emerges from the kitchen right when Slim … Continue reading Stories No. 81 – Gary Singh

Ghost Voice By Victoria Giang They called it the ghost voice because of the way it crackled and warbled into a piercingly high register. It was a voice to captivate and bind the listener. Ros had it. “Once I fed a flower only music,” she confessed to Eung, her manager, confidante, and lover. Likewise, he slaked her thirst with a stream of abuse so endless … Continue reading Stories No. 80 – Victoria Giang

Join Us By Lee Matthew Goldberg Rockabilly music about the Holy Ghost pumps through the windows of the Salvation Gateway Fellowship Church, a small, red shack with a giant neon cross on the roof, its buzzy light flickering in the dawn. Nestled between two deflated hills in the Missouri Ozarks, this wonky, stitched-together building is the only beacon for miles. The surrounding landscape provides enough … Continue reading Stories No. 79 – Lee Matthew Goldberg

Inconvenienced by Death By William Lemon The guests poured into the hotel pool dressed in robes, bathing suits underneath their fake, downy fur. The children did not bother with such pretense. They wore as little as possible, unafraid of cancer or the judging eyes of their peers. I joined the procession, tie still about my neck. Near the entrance to the pool, a cry from … Continue reading Stories No. 78 – William Lemon

Smell You Later By Paul Beckman The Sunday of my sixth birthday I was waiting on the stoop for my father to pick me up. Usually he’d take both my older brother and me together on his monthly pickups but not on birthday months. He wanted those to be special and memorable. That Sunday turned out to be memorable but not special. I sat on … Continue reading Stories No. 77 – Paul Beckman

Orion By Lucy Zhang The first room to the left on the second floor was my brother’s room. Four pieces of tape held a poster of NGC 2024, the star-forming region—ribbons of cloud and smoke, specks of light that penetrated greys and blacks which, instead of obscured, conjured an inexplicable hope to where stars glimmered, mysticism to where they did not. Constellation Orion hung on … Continue reading Stories No. 76 – Lucy Zhang

Saturday Siren By Kathryn Ordiway ‘I mean, the hotter the weather, the more people murder,’ your husband says as he wades waist-deep in the murky water. ‘Serial killers and Kansas, you know?’ You have only your feet in the lake, legs stretched long from your place on a blanket because the color—the twinges of red and brown and earthy green—disgusts and concerns you. This is … Continue reading Stories No. 75 – Kathryn Ordiway

Reeled In By M. Devoe Talley I saw you then in the summer from the promenade of that county fair as you lay on your back in the near grass and I wandered with girlfriends I barely knew. The late low sun dazzled your tangle of blond hair, and a mustache made you look older, closer to twenty-eight—which was good. Demigods of a lesser mythology, … Continue reading Stories No. 74 – M. DeVoe Talley