Untitled Lesbian Spaceship Story

When the newspaper girl started to walk her home from school, her parents would say nothing. On the contrary, she’d talk at length: some about war, some about trains that passed through town — mostly, above all, about the stars.

Miss Agatha

Her father melted into the pinewood, his ashes rooted in the charred, blackened remains — in those spaces she could once call home.

The Trial of the Demon King

“I detest your God, yes. Though, He was not the one to turn Heaven’s Gate on me. It was you. You humans that have banished me here.”

Letter from the Editor: For a Pretty Good Friend

Something as simple as the small comfort of her still being discussed in the present tense serves as an unshakable reminder of this, of the power our voices hold when we seem to have control over nothing else.

Pretty Good Interviews — Paolo lacovelli

Paolo Iacovelli is a French-Italian-Colombian writer born and raised in New York City. He received his MFA from Columbia’s School of the Arts. The King of Video Poker is his debut novel.

One-Woman Act

The most famous showgirl in New Chicago spent intermissions on the balcony alone. On chilly days like this one, she hid inside a fur coat that hadn’t yet shaken off the factory smell.

Love in the West — Part Three

I wanted to celebrate your courage, but I resented you for the lie. I had been a secret for a man ashamed of his sexuality before. I had been told elaborate, falsified stories about early sexual experiences before. I fell in love with you because you were confident, honest, and comfortable with being gay.

you, my

my best friend’s father taught me how to ride a bike and i remember my own parents being vaguely disappointed…

Still Life w/ Neck

When I was little I put my hands around my neck, just to see what being choked felt like. The next minute, I felt embarrassed for having tried it.

Reparations

She looked at me from across the room with a cold and intrusive glare. From anyone else it would be rude, offensive even, but I knew her better than that. The same face pierced my every childhood memory, but unlike then I wasn’t…

Road Kill

I think I’m clean, hung out to dry like white linen shirts and silk sheets. But I know I’ll always be a mess to men who don’t understand the washing machine cycle of life.

Pretty Good Interviews: Michele Weldon

This month’s Q&A focused on Michele Weldon of River Forest, Illinois — an author, journalist, and Northwestern University assistant professor emeritus.

Love in the West (where the sun sets) — Part One

We used to talk about those first few seconds often. “I knew it would be you,” I used to say. “I knew from the beginning.” And I did, I trusted that initial surge from my gut, it motivated overzealous writing about you, it reassured me when you didn’t answer texts saved me from the anxiety I’d grown used to in previous relationships.

A Tower No Longer — Part Two

“You can stop watching me now, Anthony, I know you’re there.” The words sounded like a reprimand, but I could hear the laughter in his voice.

Peace Lily

water color painting of a lily pad

It’s all green and blue today. It’s gray, really, but the leaves are greener than they’ve ever been. Trees reach out to each other with broad, leafy hands. They want to touch and play like the blackbirds across the street. They take off into the lazy light of a gray-blue sky which makes the road […]

Where am I?

Water Color Painting of a cold walk home

“You are alive,” it whispers. Beckons.
You feel its breath on your ears.
Aren’t you here? Aren’t you alive?

A Tower No Longer — Part One

I ducked my head but was unable to avoid the bullet as it sunk into my shoulder. I let out a muffled curse, hand pressing to my side, and threw myself behind a boulder.

Waldheim: A True Indie Organic

I can count on one hand the occurrences of shows that truly felt like the totality of the audience, musicians, music and ambiance existed in a conjoined and natural state.

His Last Cigarette

Water Color Painting of a Cigarette

“He’s the type of person who you can tell is getting depressed when he starts making his bed in the morning.”

Pretty Good Beginnings

Water Color Painting of a book

These students have shown me how much fun writing can be when it’s not brimming with citations or journalistic jargon.