Probability and Grace
By Joseph Auslander
Port Washington has a handful of classy bars that attract a clientele of wealth and distinction. They create an environment not unlike being in a GAP, Banana Republic or Abercrombie & Fitch catalog. People garnished in ‘just bought’ clothes displaying their ‘just cut’ hair and indulging in their ‘just poured’ drinks. This is not one of those bars.
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Canyons
By David Cotrone
“Jonah… Jonah… what are you doing in there?” Mom yells.
“Give me a minute Mom,” I say, “Jesus.”
“What are you doing, touching yourself?”
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Pedigree
By Daniel Davis
I was just getting ready to go out and mow the backyard when Emily hollered for me to come out front.
I could tell by her tone that it wasn’t urgent, so I stopped to take off my gardening gloves—the vibrations of the mower have the tendency to cause blisters—and set them on the dining room table on my way through the house. The front door was open, with the screen door latched firmly in place; when I reached it I paused, stunned to see Caesar, Dominick Perdieu’s standard poodle.
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Over the Top
By Max Dunbar
In his dream he was on the wrong train and ended up in a part of the city he’d never been before, ran into Dee Halstone who was with Trent Ferdinand and a few other guys and after a coupla beers in a coupla pubs they were running through the streets, music booming from somewhere, the chant rose up from Trent in his wheelchair: THIS IS ROCK AND ROLL! THIS IS ROCK AND ROLL!
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Follow Tomorrow
By Alan Gillespie
Eugene Findlay, guest of His Majesty’s, prisoner number NM9409, smuggled a pen into the security vehicle and punctured the guard’s forearm three times before wriggling free and slipping into the woods by the road.
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Seek Alternative Route
By Simon Kewin
Buckley thumped his steering wheel in frustration. Ahead, the motorway was a bank of red lights as the traffic in all three lanes braked to a halt. He had been cruising comfortably at eighty, plenty of time to get to the meeting, and now this. A red triangle lit up on his SatNav. Congestion it said underneath. Seek alternative route.
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Heavy Water
By Kirsty Neary
The pool lies quiet, a slick of liquid oxygen for those in need of its restorative powers. She lies on the tiles alongside, digging fingers, then toes, into the herringbone guttering. Water down there, too. Dirty.
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RSVP
By Nathan Pensky
Perry drummed the steering wheel with the side of his thumb, staring ahead at the wedge of illumined asphalt, the trunks of Fir that flitted by on either side and the farther darkness where the headlights didn’t reach. The only sound was the car heater and wind against the car windows.
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One Summer, Sonya and I
By Bobby Pfeiffer
Sonya ran out of the house with a yell, trotted down the wooden steps and jumped towards me. Her sudden arrival startled the whole world, dispersed the silence, and made the chickens nervous in the vegetable garden where they dug the soil for slugs and worms, casually destroying the neat lettuce rows in the process. The dog woke up, gave a confused bark, and fell asleep again almost immediately. I was suddenly aware how high the sun had climbed since I first sat cross-legged on the front yard stones with my toy figures faithfully grouped around me.
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Children of Mother Earth
By Gary Sprague
The trail ended in a huge clearing. The first thing I saw was the old school bus. It was difficult to miss, with a psychedelic paint job standing out against the green mountain forest. The words Love Mobile were written in bubble letters on the hood.
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Suicide Draft
By Nathaniel Tower
“Excuse me, Professor Robbins, can you look this over for me?” Randy Timmons spoke rather timidly, clearing his wavering throat twice and keeping his soft brown eyes aimed at the hideous orange rug covering the professor’s office floor.
“Sure thing…” Professor Robbins said, also avoiding eye contact as he trailed off in a way that would have made it clear to Randy that the wise, old man didn’t know his name, that is, if Randy hadn’t had much bigger things on his mind.
