Issue 161

Winter & Spring 2022

Image from The Inventors

Fiction Kalani Pickhart Fiction Kalani Pickhart

Propinquity

He measured things—all things. I pictured that he took a tape out and drew notch to notch from end to end, even though it didn’t work that way. The drawings on paper he laid on the table before us were ideas. The database was building, online.

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Fiction Minyoung Lee Fiction Minyoung Lee

Sing a Song of Sixpence

If Jenn were a table, she’d be solid mahogany, much like the rest of the furniture in this stereotype of an open-floor-plan space. Except Dan could feel her chest heaving against him, her ribcage pressing into his flesh.

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Fiction Kelsey Norris Fiction Kelsey Norris

Stitch

They talk around the horror. For as long as they can stand it, they talk about stamina, the races they’d been training for, about their weekly mileage, their best split.

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Fiction Silas House Fiction Silas House

Neon Moon

If he can make it through February, he’ll be all right. That’s what Joel thinks, all during the wintertime. If he can make it through December, like that old Merle Haggard song David had loved.

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Fiction Katie Devine Fiction Katie Devine

House of Wax

He had asked her to have drinks in the wax-figure-themed bar attached to the movie theater, though they’re not seeing a movie and though, she will discover, he does not drink. He lives in the same building, on the thirteenth floor, he told her in their early messages, and still manages to be twenty-five minutes late.

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Fiction Ghassan Zeineddine Fiction Ghassan Zeineddine

Speedoman

We were in the jacuzzi when Speedoman entered the pool area and our lives. There were five of us, all sitting spaced apart, the warm water bubbling up to our hairy chests. Outside, it was gray and snowing, the roads icy.

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Fiction Adrienne Celt Fiction Adrienne Celt

Can You Forgive Me?

The receptionist, Esther, was in a bad mood, and complaining to the dental hygienist about a string of canceled appointments. “Why can’t people just let us know if they’re not coming in?” she asked. “We only ask for twenty-four hours’ notice: it’s not that hard. I’m just trying to plan a day here, people.”

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Fiction Kristin Keane Fiction Kristin Keane

Expecting

It sounds, at first, like a bird. The way birds sound. Caws and chirps and trills. Occasionally, the tree will shimmy in the place it has made its home. The leaves will rustle to indicate there is an animal inside the tree.

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