The Lock Maker’s Daughter

By Paige Wyatt Momma threads secrets into our hair. Tiny iron skeleton keys are tucked away behind our dark tufts, behind our ears and at the back of our heads. She tells us they are the keys to her heart, the keys to a part of herself that only we will ever possess, and itContinue reading “The Lock Maker’s Daughter”

The Almanac

By Kaitlynn McShea Grandma Frenchy set the teakettle on her small stove. Everything about the apartment was small: the ceiling, the hallway, the rooms, the counters. It was small because it was subsidized, and it was subsidized because Grandma Frenchy was dying. Not the quick, painless death her son had acquiesced to, a heart attackContinue reading “The Almanac”

The Little Black Book

2021 Short Story Writing Contest 2nd Place Runner-Up By Lorrie Morales I saw it fall out of his pocket just as we were being shoved and pushed along the aisle of the sky-train. No one else seemed to notice, so I quickly reached down and grabbed the little black book before it was trampled byContinue reading “The Little Black Book”

Fly High

2021 Short Story Writing Contest Grand Prize Winner By Sara E. Belanger “He needs a heart transplant.” Those were the only words Josephine heard. Tears stung her eyes as she peered through glass windows at her son, Simon. His chocolate hair grew uneven and choppy as a stark reminder that she had tried to cutContinue reading “Fly High”

Sanctuary Someday

By Terri Clifton Townspeople and farmers, travelers and soldiers alike agreed the forest was a dangerous place and they were right. They said it was inhabited by an ancient witch, and they weren’t far wrong. Vast and dense was the wilderness, and few were the roads that passed through, and none through the deepest heart.Continue reading “Sanctuary Someday”

Claws and Teeth

Claws are for scratching. Teeth are for biting. Forked tongues are for smelling.  . Deep breath in. Shaking breath out. Repeat. — Sometimes it was a hotel, sometimes a hostel, but tonight it was a roadside motel somewhere on the northeastern coastline. Salty air had disfigured the once vibrant 1970-something paint. The sleepy clerk hadContinue reading “Claws and Teeth”

I Know Why the Fox Runs

By Linda McMullen I was the thirteenth princess of my line, and the only one to come to grief.   My parents, the King and Queen, taught my sisters and me to be true and kind, to ask questions, and to venerate the spirits of the sky. Father advised us to use our talents wisely. MotherContinue reading “I Know Why the Fox Runs”