Snow Angels by Lucie Han

Falling snow. Steady and soundless, like a clock ticking from within a void. Like running your fingers along the keys of a piano, but never pressing down. Camille likes to do that when his heart feels too hollow for music. He touches the smooth white silence.             Camille is standing at the edge of an…

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The Landscape Artist by S.T. Otlowski

The painter sighed as he surveyed his newest project through the dusty windshield of his battered truck. This job, he thought, was going to take a lot longer than his original estimate. He reminded himself to never take another commission without first walking the ground. The area was mostly rolling hills etched with dry gullies.…

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Off the Menu by Jeffrey Hantover

Tell Gerardo he makes one fine salad.  I don’t care if he gets it out of a jar, it’s the best creamy Italian in San Francisco.  You’re new, aren’t you?  I’ve been coming to Pinecrest for twenty-odd years.  Nowadays you gals come and go.  Always looking for something better.  Don’t blame you.  But it’s nice…

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Smoke and Ashes by Stephen Spotte

My father’s cigar-smoking, or rather its imminent threat, had caused our banishment to the porch. After supper, Dad had taken a cigar from his shirt pocket with the practiced deliberation of an actor. Mom, recognizing the cue as hers, stood and began clearing the dishes.             “Marcel,” she said, “you’re not going to smoke that…

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