by Daniel Takeshi Krause We had to take a step, hold a pose, take a step, hold a pose, on and on like that to get anywhere.

by Kathryn Kuitenbrouwer “And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.” — Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

At Work by Steven Dunn Sarah said my sister’s name, Sha’Queesha, was a made-up name.

by Ryan Bradford The day the man appears in the field, Mama says, “Oh no.”

by Julia Dixon Evans “Are you ready?” Samir asks, not looking up from his phone.

by Erika T. Wurth (from Buckskin Cocaine) For some reason it’s the sound of the big, grey van door sliding shut on her face that dusty

by Lee Ann Roripaugh At fourteen, you were completely obsessed with The Bell Jar.

Lance Olsen (excerpt from My Red Heaven) Every evening the dead gather on rooftops across the city.

by W. Todd Kaneko Metalhead swaggers through the mall, a giant crumpled and stuffed into a sixteen-year-old boy’s scrawny frame.

By Jenny Ferguson I’m watching him at the bus stop. Smells like piss, but this is the only place out of the rain, under here.