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Dave Hughes: Fisherman
Sometimes, they weren’t stupid girls, Damaged goods or dented cans. Sometimes, they were lovely creatures. Gentle and emotional, Young delights. That lit up whatever space they occupied. I would watch...
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Dave Hughes: The Reply
Fighting to get this poor fuck on a cot. He is so shot up, so slick with his own blood, I can barely hold his arms. I swat his flailing hands away, and pin his arm with my knee. He is gasping,...
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Sandra Benedetto: The Vigil
She sat next to his bed and held his hand and listened to his breathing. She thought of something he’d once said, “Beauty is in the almost.” The best this world has to offer is a yearning for the next...
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Kim Nelson: I Really Need You Tonight
The old monitor lights up, yellow letters against blue: “‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ in the style of Bonnie Tyler.” A cold beer in hand, you’re commanding the stage, a six-inch raised platform in the...
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