The Muse

By Emily Murphy He first visited her in high school. Senior year. Study hall. He sat there, shoulders hunched, head hanging forward, long legs stretched out into the aisle. He drummed the fingers of his right hand on the desk before him. He had penetrating eyes, probably blue, the kind…

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Duckles

By Marie Anderson Someone was stealing Rose’s newspaper. Every morning at six, she’d hear the delivery van slow and the rolled-up paper thud into her driveway. She liked hearing the soft sound of the world’s news arriving at her home while she snuggled under two thick quilts in her cozy…

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Featured Story

Sales Man By Zary Fekete The sun is baking the top of my head as I turn toward the last house in the cul-de-sac. I feel the wheels of the pull-cart thunk into my Achilles tendon for what feels like the hundredth time. I wince every time it happens. A…

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