by Becky Tuch The first phone call came on a Wednesday evening. The guidance counselor at Michael’s school. Disturbed, he said he was, by some of Michael’s recent in-school behavior. He referred to Michael as your son and then, moments … Read more

by ANNE HOSANSKY “My father jumped out of a window.” Those were the first words I heard from her. We were standing in the schoolyard when she said that. She was a new girl in my class, kind of funny-looking, … Read more

by Emry Trantham I still hold my breath going through the dark of a tunnel, through a mountain somebody’s granddaddy blasted hollow so as to make space for this black and yellow asphalt trail. The dark in the bowel of … Read more

by Bridget Apfeld It was summer, the ugly stretch of August. White days of heat. Every night banks of thunderheads gathered on the Atlantic, and heat lightning split the Carolina pines straight down the center, their bark peeled like a … Read more

by BRANDON CLIPPINGER Evie shifted her feet in the scorched grass, then switched her pocketbook from the crook of one elbow to the other. The complex was so quiet. But then again, who would want to come out and make … Read more

by JASON PECK  “My suggestion was quite simple: Put that needed code in a little capsule, and then implant that capsule next to the heart of a volunteer … if ever the President wanted to fire nuclear weapons, the only … Read more

by JOHN DUDEK If the angels of vengeance are generous, they will place in your hands some icon of a long former love. A favorite mug you can pitch to the hard floor of a dumpster, a claddagh ring to … Read more

by BRIAN DRUCKENMILLER Donning his glossy black tights with a purple stripe down each leg, Gill Grimshaw wound electrical tape around his arms to exaggerate his biceps. Through the streaks of the locker room mirror, he couldn’t help but notice … Read more

by KATARINA PALACIOS We swept the desert when my sister came to town. Broken glass, insect husks, casings, cigarettes, small bones…we swept it all away, behind the garage. There wasn’t much we could do about the smoke from the forest … Read more

by BRAD JOHNSON At night, my wife and I lie in bed like we’re stranded together in a wooden boat in the middle of the Atlantic afraid the dawn will deliver uprooted trees caught under the overpass, bill collectors using … Read more