A Fish Story

By Kurt Caswell

Craig Cass and I were camped at Durbin Lake in Thousand Lakes Wilderness in northern California. It was a moderate 3.5-mile hike in from the Bunchgrass Trailhead under our light packs, packed for a short weekend. We moved easily over the trail through the rolling lava flows, evidence of the recent (about 500 years ago) eruption of Tumble and Hall Buttes.

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Job Interview

By Micaela Maftei

When my mother and father moved they had no stuff. There was no stuff anywhere. No stuff in the refrigerator, no stuff in the closets, no stuff in the car – for the first short while there wasn’t even a car. No stuff whatsoever.

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‘el’ ride

By Elizabeth Reeder

Welcome to the CTA
This is a Purple Line Express to downtown
Doors closing
Central is next
In the direction of travel doors open on the left at Central
+++++ the sound of the tracks, the vibration as we set off, the sound of air coming through +++++ vents, the train rocking as we hit speed

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Never Marry Your Prom Date

By Thomas Sullivan

The water in the hot-tub is circulating an off-white sheen of bubbly foam, which floats around the tub like a pollution slick in a river eddy. The only thing missing from the scene is a fish floating upside down, but the guy across from me, who keeps nodding off and jerking awake, might go under pretty soon and fulfill this role. I’m trying to ignore the chemical stench when the woman sitting next to me strikes up a conversation.

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Foreword

By Laura Tansley

Away from home I feel braver, so I indulge him when he asks did my brother and I fight a lot as children. He has a handsome Italian accent and a smooth beard. His satchel is heavy with copies of a free magazine, it looks as if it would split him in two like a block of wood. I won’t take a copy though, I have enough to carry.

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