“What Is She?” by Suzon George
Mimi is a girl who walks up on her toes,
bringing laughter and music wherever she goes.
Her buckwheat honey hair holds a good, sturdy braid,
and each day she must wear something pink—any shade . . .
Category: Original Fiction
“Stabs in the Dark” by Tammi Browne-Bannister
Late one afternoon, Hazel and I were strolling around the Garrison Savannah, when a little voice called out my name: “Fernando.” When I saw who it was, I was mortified . . .
“No-Wheelers” by Jay Eisenberg
Alex is only seven years old, but he has already seen
The Worst Thing In The World, which is:
an abandoned tandem bicycle . . .
“You Must Really Want It” by Marie S.
I woke up feeling cold this morning and the clouds were fighting their way in between the bedroom blinds that were left open in the middle of the night. I found my body naked and bent and I thought about Nicole duFresne and her star quality blonde hair and blue eyes and perfect teeth and I wondered how her hair and face and body fell onto the concrete ground on Rivington Street after she was shot in the chest by that nineteen-year-old boy . . .
“When You Need to Outsource Revenge” by Mickey J. Corrigan
“I don’t care what it costs, I want that man dead . . .”
“No. Station” by Timothy Gager
I didn’t notice I had nodded out on the train and had missed my stop until the conductor clamped down on my bony shoulders in Wellington, saying, “Come on, honey . . .”
“Formula One Coke” by Brett Selmont
The sun faded on Paris as I headed to the 5th arrondissement on the 63 bus. I slipped in the back door, as drivers didn’t bother policing fares. My free ride took me over the Seine, to the Left Bank along Boulevard Saint Germaine and dropped me near Luxembourg Gardens. Down Rue Saint Jacques on foot, passed La Sorbonne, Le Pantheon, and finally onto the stool of a bar run by Aussies . . .
“a murder of crows” by Antonio Hopson
In their black eyes, one could see morning’s sun rise into sweet rapture . . .