Short Archives

PATATINA by Rosalind Margulies

September 11, 2024 · Fiction

My boss is a dog and today is the dog’s birthday. Okay, not really. I like to say that my boss is a dog, but it’s just one of those things you say to make it easier, you know? But it is her birthday. The dog’s name is Patatina, which is Italian for little potato. The dog’s owners, Mr. and Mrs. Bianchi, are Italian. I’m from India or at least my grandparents are. And Patatina is a Papillon. (Patatina can also mean pussy. In case you were wondering.) Here: Lake Oswego, 15 minutes from downtown Portland but several income brackets…

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THE ARTIST by Ruby Zuckerman

August 27, 2024 · Fiction

A––––– hasn’t been anywhere, or seen anybody, since her unemployment money ran out. Iron wind chimes jangle when she knocks on the door, and jangle again when it opens. Someone named Sara leads her to a table in the center of the shop. Sara is wearing a cloth mask with a red and white geometric print, which makes A––––– feel self conscious about her own KN-95, like she showed up wearing a suit when Sara is just wearing a cozy sweater. Everything inside of the room is white, everything outside is gray. This makes any small moment of color extremely…

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MISTER INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT by Kirsti MacKenzie

July 15, 2024 · Fiction

“Told you,” says Dirt. “I knew he’d lose his shit.” I’m not losing my shit. Annie doesn’t say anything. She keeps her eyes trained on the gym bag under the desk. “Pay up,” says Dirt. “Fuck off,” says Annie. Dirt’s desk chair squeals as he leans back, lacing his fingers behind his bald head. The chairs are old and broken, an afterthought. Like everything else here. I’ve got my jacket halfway off and a glass container with dinner in my hand. I put the container on the desk, then grab it again. “He can’t get it,” scoffs Dirt. “He’s a…

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THE SECRET AGENT by David Hansen

June 12, 2024 · Fiction

After many years of covert development the CIA perfects a method of creating ghosts. It’s a huge breakthrough. The CIA feels ghosts will be the ultimate spies: invisible, non-physical, and totally disinterested, as in, not vying for personal advantage, the way living spies sometimes do. One day the department heads circulate an internal call for volunteers for “a very important mission.” All the star agents show up. Guys who are at the absolute peaks of their careers. Guys who have done it all. Wet work, PsyOps, dark ops, other stuff no one has even heard of. Company men to the…

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WORK FROM HOME by Jenn Salcido

June 10, 2024 · Fiction

It’s not looking good for us, Jeremy thinks, as he opens the fridge and peers inside. A small, desiccated head of broccoli, provenance unknown, stinks up the whole place like farts. A pickle jar sits inert, nary a pickle floating inside. A sprig of grapes wilts on its vine. Jeremy shuts the door. “We don’t have any food,” he calls out to Dog, the dog. Dog barks. Jeremy makes a motion with his hands like what is he supposed to do about this, moves to the living room, and commences with his morning fretting routine. First, he backs his body…

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A FINAL AND PERSONAL PRINCIPLE by Sean Cavanaugh

June 6, 2024 · Fiction

Connor’s room had big windows and blinds with strings that touched the floor, and which were always drifting unevenly, a little to the left or to the right, halfway up or basically closed, but always open slightly because of an interceding object or a crease in the PVC, so the sunlight was partial and unfulfilled. There were a few old trophies on his dresser and a fishbowl, forever bubbling, with two statuettes and a little red beta. In front of the bed was a large TV, and to the side was a small leather couch where he’d sit with his…

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THE RELATIVELY BEAUTIFUL AND THE DAMNED by J.S. Nunn

April 11, 2024 · Fiction

I’ve found that hobbies are a great way to distract yourself from the fact that it’s too late to realize your potential.

CRJ

WHAT TO DO WHEN THERE IS NOTHING LEFT TO DO by John King

March 14, 2024 · Fiction

I’ve just vomited into my mother’s coffin. The pallbearers rush me out of the parlor. The funeral home director eyes me fiercely. He isn’t wrong.

CRJ

THE INHERITENCE / LA HERENCIA by Sam Moe

February 28, 2024 · Creative Nonfiction

I think we’re all stuck to the Manhattan apartment, its thick coatings of paint intertwined with our veins, which crisscross around the city, glowing in the night, fraying when we argue.

CRJ

VIRGIN SUNNING ON ARTIFICIAL ROCK by Kate Busatto

January 31, 2024 · Fiction

But before I can swallow, I must disarm her. Rob her of agency and hope. Break the faith that brought her to the enclosure.

CRJ

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