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CategoryFiction

The Club

Jeffery Higgs
How much fish can a river hold? How many could it expel? With their dull gray pallor, frozen unseeing eyes and shredded spider web fins, they covered the entire shoreline. It was impossible to set down a foot without crushing innards that squirted out a putrid odor of death.

What He Lived For

Stephen O’Connor
“It was my last trip of that summer that I recall most vividly. I locked my bike to the sidewalk side of a guard rail on Route 126. After a ten-minute hike through the woods, I arrived at the site of Thoreau’s cabin, where I paid my homage and meditated for a while in silent reverence.”

Country Man

Terry Barr
“He had to be 70 if he was a day, but then I learned long ago that older Southern people often hide their aging, or have already aged beyond their years. Somewhere in there.”

Meditating

By Z.Z. Boone

Except for the blood pressure, Parisi is a healthy seventy-five-year-old. He swims at the Y four mornings a week, his spine is straight, he maintains the 34-inch waist he carried through college. His mind is sharp; he reads historical novels and sees an occasional play, and he can still knock out the Sunday Times crossword without having to wait a week for the solution.

Cap’n, I Can

By Peter D’Antonio

Orn’s hands burnt as the weight of the anchor slid its chain hard against his calloused palms. He cleared his throat, letting out what could easily be misinterpreted as a grunt of pain.
            “You’re sure you’ve got it under control?” came a voice from the other end of the vessel.
            No answer.
            “Orn?”
            No answer.