Short Stories

Las Meninas: The Alchemy of a LifeScreen Shot 2015-10-19 at 1.12.52 PM

Anne stared at the miniaturized “Las Meninas” in her hand. Velasquez’ vast painting reduced to postcard size. She could wallpaper her kitchen with cards like these. Ones her students–current and former–mailed her from summer vacation spots. She steadied herself for another one.
-Winning Writers Tom Howard/John H. Reid Fiction and Essay Contest 2015
 Honorable Mention
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Ellie stood in line at the kosher butcher shop debating between the boneless rib-eye steak and the London broil. She and Seymour preferred the London broil but couldn’t afford it at double the price of the rib eye. She should order brisket, but she had cooked brisket for their last two Shabbat dinners.
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The Gift

It could have been the moment Joni leapt into the tree. Or maybe she realized it when she put her thumb out. It didn’t matter when she knew. Joni was on her own now. And she was taking a risk. She knew one should never trust strangers. Yet, standing on the shoulder of the highway, Joni felt safer than she had all morning at home.
—Fishfood Magazine (Page 20)
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The Positional Player

Jamal and Keith were chasing geese down by the tidal lake when Jamal saw the Warbergs get of the car. He stopped short, causing Keith to bump into him.
“Hey man,” Keith said, grabbing Jamal’s arm preventing him from falling forward into a large pile of goose poop. “What did you do that for?”
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Winter Migration

bear-riverJerome’s back twinge, his knees’ stiffness, and the rigidity in his wrinkled brown skinned hands remind him that he’s 75.
It’s November, 4:30 in the morning and the room’s cold air creates vapor clouds when he exhales.
—Bear River Review
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What They Shared

Screen shot 2014-11-19 at 9.21.02 PMLindsay jumped out of the Dodge Dart’s backseat and inhaled deeply. Her mother’s cigarette smoke streamed out the passenger window. Dan, her mother’s boyfriend, sat in the driver’s seat blasting Metallica so loud that women carrying laundry baskets in one arm and their children under another turned towards them. Lindsay stepped closer to her mother to tell her about today’s soccer game, but Dan popped the trunk and shouted for her to unload the four garbage bags of dirty clothes. Her younger sister Michaela had disappeared already. Figured. She’d have to drag the laundry herself.
—Pooled Ink

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