Thrice Around the Walls of Troy by Gary Duncan Round and round, thinking: All this, for her? Remembering the stories he’d heard about her: the face, the ships, all that. That first time he saw her, his idiot brother…
Postbellum
Postbellum by Fiona J. Mackintosh January 25, 1867 Somewhere outside Jacksonville, Illinois, the train slows to a crawl. Clara cups her hands and peers into the darkness but sees only the rail bed stones and the ragged edge of a…
You May Hear of a Killing
You May Hear of a Killing by Becca Borawski Jenkins The heat made her an inch shorter as she watched the dust devil tread toward her down the only road in this not-even-a town. Her hands rested at her hips.…
Send Him Victorious
Send Him Victorious by Jude Higgins I last saw my big brother Charlie laugh in 1937, the day after George VI’s coronation. He nearly wet himself when I asked him about a word in the National Anthem. Why were we…
Two by Two
Two by Two by KM Elkes They say Noah died, 350 years on from the Great Flood, as a naked, purple-lipped drunk. But some know better. The ones who have seen ancient eyes beneath brows knotted as old, sick trees.…
The Bathtub
The Bathtub by Amy Slack Tommy never came home clean. He finished each shift a little heavier than he started it, what with all the soot that would settle on his sweat-soaked skin as he worked. I’d have his bath…
Professor Lazzo’s Stupendous Flea Circus
Professor Lazzo’s Stupendous Flea Circus by Jennifer Falkner The professor rolls up his sleeve. It’s flecked here and there with gravy, with mud, possibly with blood, difficult to tell against the coarse weave and the ancient stains. He lowers his…
Santo Spirito, 1577
Santo Spirito, 1577 by Michele Finn Johnson My parents consign my eldest sister, Paola, to Venice’s Santo Spirito convent. There is no dowry for Paola and so her duty is our salvation. When they took her away, Paola’s nails dragged…
Tyn
Tyn by K.B. Carle Tyn, a man the color of the coals that collected under his mama’s good cooking pot before turning to ash when the fire got to them, digs his hands deep into the earth, letting every bit…
Phoenixes
Phoenixes by Sophie van Llewyn London, 1941 Mother’s pinkie draws away from the teacup, reaching towards our glorious past. The footmen have been drafted, the maids soldier on in factories, but the afternoon tea is holy in our house. A…