One of the brakes on my bike is broken. It doesn’t matter. It’s flat here.
Smiling white folks wave at me from golf carts. The weather is always warm. I married up.
I wonder if I’m as good as they are. Or as bad. Maybe I’m both. But hopefully neither.
Sarah Hausman likes to keep her bio shorter than her stories. Links and updates can be found at Facebook.com/sarahhausmanwrites
“No, they do not teach you in school. They don’t teach you how to find the art in your name, and how to speak of that art. No, they don’t teach you to love your beautiful warm, brown hands.
“They only teach you to love black on everything but yourself.”
Angelica is a Kenyan writer who seeks to educate the world about the New Afrika she grew up and lives in, through the stories she weaves.
It’s tough being queer when no one knows, and the closet only gets hotter during the summer.
I play dress up all I want—it is a closet, after all—but it’s stifling, uncomfortable.
When I peel away the lace, it’s soaked with sweat, and I peel away with it.
R.R. Bastek is a first-generation Polish-American writer interested in exploring life through the lens of literary fiction.
Gerald was in the unenviable position of having a pseudonym more popular than himself. He had submitted five stories and had none accepted. Mitchell Kent—Gerald’s middle name and favorite superhero—had been published twice. Gerald had to get rid of Mitchell. Murder or suicide? Either way it’d be messy.
Mark Konik is a writer from Newcastle, Australia. He writes short stories and plays.
The first time I jumped I was trying to impress some kids my age who seemed much older. The second time I was in college, and I led the way because I knew how. The third time I had something to prove to myself, but now I can’t remember what.
Justin Hook is a comedy writer and coder living in Los Angeles. Visit justinhook.com
Once upon a time I had a son, as familiar to me as my own hands.
For years, his sweet face betrayed nothing about his struggles.
One day he left unannounced and upon his return two years later, he was no longer my son.
Please smile. I gained a daughter.
Claire Polders is a Dutch author writing short prose in English. More of her work can be found at clairepolders.com
. She likes it when readers say “hello” to her on Twitter
She scanned the classroom filled with adults looking for a second chance at life, predicting her neighbor’s answer: My name is Dan Clark and I am an alcoholic.
Then she bowed her head and scrawled her own upon the notebook: I am someone who cannot describe herself in ten words.
Joscelyn Willett consistently has trouble deciding which ice cream flavor to order, so always orders chocolate. It’s a solid choice.
For her, each day dissolves into the next, like a sugar cube in hot water. Instinctively she clings, grabs, and clutches to the remains of her earlier self. Memories assemble in a dense haze of déjà vu.
Little-by-little, piece-by-piece, bit-by-bit she forfeits what made her sweet and solid. She dissipates.
Stephanie Glover is a professional juggler. Just kidding. Not a literal juggler, but she does juggle in the figurative sense. Stephanie is a full time student, employee, mother, and wife. In addition, she pursues her passions of writing and photography. Most often she can be found planting idea seeds in the little book she carries in her purse, or releasing the shutter on her beloved camera.
Like clockwork, he’d get up at 6:00 AM and get ready for work.
Immediately, the maid who knew her secret scurried into the room to help her choose her costume for the day. Then she, too, went to work.
Imagine their surprise when their eyes met: a client, and a provider.
Tanja lives in Malta, Europe, with her husband and three children. She freelances for print and online media in Maltese and English.