Category: Short Fiction

Samples from recent issue.

Binge

by Noah Waldron Key West Anna looks around. Her head is fuzzy, her eyes are wide, her knees are on the ground, her hand is clutching a shiny, bright wrapper which is now void of its original contents just like

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Storm of the Century

The Storm of the Century Steven Saint Vincent Key Largo They live and work and play on the easternmost third of the archipelago. It sounds exotic as if it were some faraway Paradise but it’s just a place they call

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Lives Together

by M.N. SNow Key West “Jesus, David, you forget every time!” “Do I?” “Yes, and I still can’t believe it. It’s only been about a thousand years!” Hannah should’ve been used to it by now, but it still bothered her.

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The Truth About Pelicans

THE TRUTH ABOUT PELICANS Kurt Cole Eidsvig Key West Nina wanted a sandwich but Marty wouldn’t stop talking about the sunset. They were riding bikes toward White Street Pier on the last day of their vacation. Nina’s hair salon in

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The Harbor

THE HARBOR Kim Alan Pederson Key West  Have you been down to the harbor lately? I know you haven’t. I can tell by looking at you that you haven’t. Why not? What’s keeping you from it? What better things might

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Voyage of the Band, Part 1

JD Adler Key West 1. OPANU Doug spent hours staring at it, the so called “hull” of the ship. There was just no convincing him it was sturdy enough to protect them from the void. The energy field stretched between

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La Bataille Des Bandes

La Bataille Des Bandes © 2015 by Hal Howland. Key West From The Sculpture Gardener: Short Fiction   Marcel Anjou was justifiably proud of the fact that his native France had failed, or, perhaps more accurately, had not bothered to

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An Irma Prayer

AN IRMA PRAYER Tom Lawrence Big Pine   Here we stand forlorn amongst the rubble, Want to be strong, but feel fragile as a bubble, Where to turn?  What to save? What to rebuild in this Irma grave? Can’t drink

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The Fine Art of Professional Suicide

The Fine Art of Professional Suicide by Hal Howland The toothless, trembling old man approached the circulation desk and struggled to speak. Normally he would have been dismissed as one of a hundred lazy vagrants who spent their days in

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Glades Story

Vicki Boguszewski Key West Darkness seemed to have a hold on the Cypress stands this far south, no matter the time of day or position of the sun in the sky. The brush was so thick here and the undergrowth

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