ISSUE ONE, WINTER 2010
THE FLOODby Sarah Blackman
In parts of the town, the water has a rainbow sheen from the oil on the roadways or gasoline cans tipped over in people’s sheds.
PASSAGEby Matthew C. Crady
It was quick—the wife’s going under. Ann watched from the shore as the small dark form of the body slid along under the clear ice.
WHAT GOD WANTSby Tim Croft
They climb down the fire escape outside his bedroom window and steal things. They have taken, among other items, his wristwatch, clock radio, and bedside lamp.
LETTERS FROM THE FRONT, (#8), (#46), (#54) by Mandy Malloy
Some days I steal arak from our neighbors. Get drunk. Lose my helmet.
SKETCH IN SNOWby Nathan Parker
April is a crappy month. No more sling, no more hugs/from experienced women, no more breast mushing/against my head.
DEVOTIONby Michele Poulos
She must walk the grounds of buffalo heads,/their eye sockets lighted with candles. Sip from a horse’s/skull.
IN DEATHby Patrick Scott Vickers
The tables sag with food and the cups/brim with the grinnings of rats.
MY FATHER HAS A PROBLEM WITH KEYSby Patrick Scott Vickers
At first, he had two keys. House. Car. Then he locked himself out of the car, so he had a duplicate key made and put the duplicate in his wallet.