Buy Me by Bharath Upendra

Trust and belief are two ends of a straight line. You trust someone, you have faith in them; they break your trust, you lose faith. When you believe in someone though, no matter how many times they break your trust, you still have faith in them. In a way, faith is the currency of trust….

Nowhere Slow by Bogdan Dragos

Oh God, here she comes again by my window with her dog on a leash and now the noise begins It’s not barking. I wish it was barking but instead it’s crying, making those whimpering sounds children make when they try to hold a cry in The full cry of some creatures is like the…

You Can Have Her by Dawn Pisturino

The call came in on his office landline.        “Tony Blackwell?  We want two million dollars in small bills, or your wife eats a bullet.”        Tony laughed.  “She’s a whore.  I don’t give a damn about her.  Do you know how many times she’s cheated on me?”        “Hey, man, I’m sorry, but she’s…

For Courage by Bogdan Dragos

“Getting drunk to write is stupid,” she said, “not to mention utterly pathetic.” And I said, “Yeah, I agree.” “Good. Then why are you drinking now?” “Well…” Shit, she got me. There was nothing I could say. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. There was still so much about existence that I…

Wear Gloves if you have to by Bogdan Dragos

funny thing was that they were still kids yet they loved each other much like grown people did They ran behind the barn and behind a haystack and he had his hands wrapped tightly around her neck and squeezed hard and moved like he tried to unscrew something stuck It left some nasty red marks…

Jar of Bugs by Bogdan Dragos

he rides a rusty bike in the cold night sliding like a fish from alley to alley He’s going up the hill again All he’s got on him besides his clothes and the bike is a thermos filled with coffee he got from the vending machine at the mall coffee bought with money earned from…

Buttercream and Biscuits by Britta Benson

I’ll chap her door. What else can I do? That woman must know something that I don’t. Hettie died on Friday. The family didn’t hang around. No wake, no cake. Her son clearly adopting the less is less approach. ‘She wouldn’t have wanted a fuss’, he said on the phone, like he knew her. Trust…

Dead Man’s Party by Joni Caggiano

Isabella was having a difficult time breathing.  Every inch of her was crying silently, releasing her anger on the gas pedal.  She restrained herself by pumping the breaks so her husband, Liam, whom she was tailing, would not see her red Tesla. Isabella was a striking woman who loved her husband of twenty years.  She…

No Cash, Only Letters by Bogdan Dragos

“Got me a little crowbar and one of them ol’ school ski masks,” she said. “And just before it was about to go down, my pathetic-ass boyfriend punked out of it. I lost all my respect for the guy on that evening. I still love him, yeah. But I no longer respect him. It really…

Glass Shards in the Bloodstream by Bogdan Dragos

she still read random internet articles from time to time and it was in one of them that she found the good news It was below a post titled GOD IS LOVE that she didn’t bother to read the one she did bother to read explained that small shards of glass can enter the body…

Whatsoever things ye ask for when ye pray by Bogdan Dragos

she came out of her house after the heavy rain stopped and walked up to the bridge and leaned forward over the rail and watched the turbid river flowing by, disappearing with infinite length below her feet The rail was wet and she wiped it with a few tissues and then got her notebook out…

The Door by Susan Beetlestone

I almost ran into it the first time. Almost every morning, about five forty-five, I get up, drag on my running gear and go out into the nearly empty streets. Running so early has two advantages. My resistance to exercise has not built up yet, because I’m hardly awake, and there are not too many…

A Silent Conversation by Maitreyee Telang

We sat across the table, tension gripping hard onto me every second that passed. The air was so brittle, it could snap. They looked at me straight into my eyes and asked, “HOW DID YOU SURVIVE?” —————- On a deeper level, there was another intense questioning going on. Our eyes became a communication system at…