“Time Sensitive” By Merrill Hatlen

If I’d known Robert Mueller lived in the neighborhood, my wife, Kat, and I would never have bought this place. Seduced by the real estate agent, who told us that this quiet cul-de-sac was populated by a “bunch of bureaucrats and lawyers” I thought I’d found hog heaven. As a writer, I need peace and …

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“Isle of Flights” By Junpei Tarashi

If I told them everything, I think the birdswould tut, sympathy coating every titter, claiming that the world would be betteroff had I succeeded the first, the second, the eleventh time I triedTo rid this monster of its next second — its reflectionin a noose, its remembrance painted in a yellow CAUTION tape begging            “Active Scene of Crime …

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“Grain” By Durell Smith

Alone with the films I don’t remember. Blue heavy air rests on my face I’m trying to bring out unintelligible noise like two cats fighting in the corner of my bedroom. It is the math. The dissonance of my imagination but I couldn’t believe the same words were pulled out of you.  Waiting for letters while diadems of flowers are formed. They are worth …

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“The Last Letter” By Charissa Roberson

Wait a moment.The boys are laughing outside,Chasing leaves through the dust.Pale leaves curl around the sill,Like fragile ears bending to listen.I have your words in my hand.They weigh heavy. Just paper,A bit of ink, traced there byA cold and trembling hand.Yet I feel worlds between my fingers.Not just this one, but the next.I have always …

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“Too swift,” By Melissa Atkinson Mercer

Too swift, she says, too insatiable. Don’t you know these things take planning? Father was salt-skinned and whiskey; built coffins in the mustard plants, in the hard mud. Chopped boards from the porch. From my bed-wall, my exorbitant spine. Back to river, bones to fish: perfect thief, I started small: sticks of butter from the …

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“Holy Ghost Sunday” By Travis Turner

Sweat trickled down his brow, stopping hesitantly in his thick sideburns before rolling down underneath his plain white undershirt. “One more time?” the little boy said earnestly. One. More. Time. The words stuck with him like glue, transporting him back to the sultry afternoon in a backwoods church in southwest Alabama. St. Stephens Pentecostal church …

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“Candles for Orlando” By Tonie Bear

Candles for Orlando, June 15, 2016 Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes. What happens in the span of a year is a blur of motion: feelings smeared across a moving train, purple sorrow, red hurt, green anger, and yellow fear. It’s a whirlwind of emotion, pain twisting around regret and spiraling into depression. But …

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