“Special K” by Siggy Buckley

Scared out of my mind
Heart thumping
Chilled to the bone under layers of blankets
In my surgical gown and silly cap
I wait to be knocked out by ketamine . . .

“Dextro Heaven & the Death Drug Impulse” by Bob Freville

The gateway drug is not the weed you smoke in a too-thin joint as a teenager. It’s not the beer you surreptitiously sip from your father’s fishing cooler while hunkered down in the garage. The gateway drug is escape . . .

“On Holiday” by Jennifer Schaefer

In her poky hotel bathroom, Sallie filled up a glass with water from the sink. It wasn’t until she’d swallowed the pill—some generic form of Valium—that she stopped to wonder if the water was okay to drink. Oh well, she thought as she stepped into her red bikini bottoms. Too late now . . .

“A Night at Storytime Hamlet” by Richard Klin

As Chessy slowly approached Thomas’s house, he offered up his usual fervent litany: that Thomas’s mother or father wouldn’t answer the door, and if they did, the strained, obligatory small talk would somehow be less excruciating than usual. But fortune was smiling on him this evening—Thomas was perched right outside. For now, at least, the parents could be avoided . . .

“A Sleight of Mouth” by Steve Loring

My brother looked at me. Looked right through me, in fact. An empty Klonopin bottle sat at his feet. Drugs—no big deal. I’d been here before . . .

“Intuitive” by Carolyn Smuts

Psychics are fake. They are lying bullshitters who make a buck conning the stupid and the naïve. I’m no psychic. He thinks I’m intuitive. I’m not; he’s just a drunk . . .

“Laugh Now” by Jess C Scott

Megan—she was a stunner, the first woman I ever asked out on a date after my painful history of being the awkward nerd in high school.

I gave her my time and friendship. I even let her cry on my shoulder when she had no one else to turn to. She didn’t know I was in the next room listening to her talk to a girlfriend over the phone . . .

“Brown Paper Sack Guys” by Brenda McCray

Nancy took the job at the new liquor store to supplement her shitty government salary. The liquor store allowed her to work weekends and in the evenings after leaving her regular job—only a two-minute walk from one to the other. Every morning when she walked from her car to her office, she would see the same cast of characters posted up in front of the gray-and-beige county government building, which was situated only a few blocks from the homeless mission . . .