Tiny Smuggler – by N.E. Rule

“You’ve already searched me and found nothing,” Sam says.

Her Best Friend’s Guy – by N.E. Rule

The final pic, October 31st, has the caption “He’ll be the death of me.” The photo is a close-up of Stephanie’s face.

Avocados and Ambulances – by Sarah Elise Pettigrew

Listening to Morgan playing through her pieces, I began to feel that familiar jealousy creepy into my stomach.

Split – by Jay McKenzie

She looks beyond the fire to the flat surface of the lake. There is little in the way of moon and stars tonight, but lights from the lodge on the opposite shore glimmer on the water’s skin. In her eyes, the dancing amber flames ripple.

Ditchmoss – by Andrew Shaughnessy

On the day in question, the four seniors, packing cellophane bags of caramel corn, presented themselves at the circus tent early to take their seats in the back row of the floor section adjacent to the centre ring. A family of four was in the front row, trying to settle twin four-year-old boys each seized with fear at being so close to the action. Hank studied the scene as if this were one of the circus acts.

Weary Willie – by Bethany Bruno

The band leader saw the flame first, signaling his musicians to begin playing “Stars and Stripes Forever,” or what circus folk used in code for “emergency.”

Fair Field Gate – by Eric Janzen

Yet afterwards he seemed to slip away as though the world had become too much for him. How could she have left him there?

Where We Have to Go – by Lindsey Harrington

We queue up with all the semis, car carriers full of souped-up SUVs, reefers of Mexican spinach and sweet peas, empty logging trucks, and full livestock trailers. And us, with our secret cargo.

The Silent Barn – by Dawn Beecroft Teetzel

I climb the narrow staircase to the mow of my father’s barn, the wooden steps worn smooth by man. Thin, winter sunlight streams, like shards of glass through the cracks between the wallboards. My aged parents are away. My purpose here is to feed the cats, the only welcomed creatures of this barn. There are […]

The Dawn Chorus – by Julia Dale Pollard

I’ve been her helper for thirty-some odd years now and in that time, I’ve gotten to know all her likes and dislikes. Her quirks and eccentricities. Every day it’s the same thing. She gets up at the crack of dawn, I bring her some toast and a cup of hot tea. The toast has to […]