Issue 7.2 Fiction

“Self-Rising Flour,” Margaret Rizzio
“Self-Rising Flour,” Margaret Rizzio

Space Camp

by Amanda Baldeneaux

Sadie thought “nickelodeon” was a made-up word until she learned otherwise, something fun for children to slide back and forth on their tongues while elongating vowels and shoving consonants out from between their teeth like sunflower seed shells or spit. Sadie never thought knowing about the past could be fun until she read in a book about film that “nickelodeon” was the name of a type of theater…


by Janelle Blasdel

Still, there are days that make his brain feel like cotton, days when he wanders through the house his mother left him and he feels so young, certain that it’s 1978 and he’s about to take his Dodge Aspen out for a cruise to see if he can pick up any hitchhikers, and as he gathers his lunch and thermos and rope and hammer, he catches himself in a mirror, the sight enough to take his breath away…

Audible Cities

by Robert Boucheron

The weather is no help. Unwisely placed in a junction of valleys and mountain ranges where contrary masses of atmosphere collide, where storms are frequent and lighting often strikes, the city suffers from howling gales and thunderous rain more than half the year. Rivers flood and forests catch fire. Even on a good day, when banks of cloud oppress a fitful sun, the air trembles with menace…


by Jennafer D’Alvia

Maybe Alan forgot for a second that he’s disabled too. I used to think I’d rather be dead than in a chair. And then one day I woke up in a hospital bed and I couldn’t move my legs…

One Daughter Weeping

by Randall Van Nostrand

Marianne was forty-one years old and still waiting for her life to start. She didn’t regret moving home to help him. She was, after all, the obvious choice. Issy had her career and Beth had her family and medical practice. Marianne was the only one without something important to do…