My Daughter's Best Friend by Michelle Reynolds “Here you go Missy.” Elizabeth hears her daughter say as she enters the kitchen. Brooklyn is sitting
Emily Bradley wanted a smart phone for her tenth birthday. Her mother and step-father had been reluctant to give her one because they felt it was a luxury for a child to have
Three elderly women stood huddled in a corner of the funeral home, whispering and glaring at the deceased's wife.
by Barry Basden Cleaning out my father's things I found an old black and white photo, one I'd never seen before. Hidden away all these years. The photo was taken…
I’m lying down on the bed. Naked. Carefree. One hand thrown carelessly behind my head propping me up. The other playing with my belly button or any small indent on my skin within a comfortable radius.
I watch them together, though I’m supposed to be in my room. They’re sitting too close. Cigarette smoke trails in front of my eyes as I sit huddled in the corner.
Patrick Hanford is a short story author and has been published in Heater Magazine and Elite Critiques Magazine. He is a member of Caprock Writer's Association and has published on their website.
You would hate it if you knew how many times I apply lipstick now that you're gone. I'm putting it on, like, every five minutes to get through the next fifteen, though I know they use fish scales to make it
She said, “This is crazy.” She looked at me. “Isn’t this crazy?” I shrugged. I thought that, sure, maybe it was a little crazy. But I thought it was exciting, too. Crazy or not, I thought it might be crazier if we parted ways and never saw each other again.
David Lohrey grew up in Memphis. His poetry can be found in Otoliths, Sentinel Literary Quarterly, Easy Street and Quarterday. In addition, recent poems