Every time I eat here, I wonder if she’s still in the restroom.
I watch the cakes orbit on refrigerated turntables, a silent waltz for the ballerinas running omelets and coffee.
Back when she excused herself to the restroom, the hostess was probably still in diapers.
“Table for one, please.”
Ryan R. Latini is a freelance and fiction writer living in southern New Jersey. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in Funny in Five Hundred
, Red Savina Review
, and The Schuylkill Valley Journal
I am standing on wet ground outside my childhood home, under mid-morning tropical sun. The air smells of earth and newly banished rain. Adults speak indoors; their everyday worries are abstract, distant.
I wake up to a snowy Chicago morning, work on a weekend, and infant needing to be fed.
Priya Balasubramanian is a writer and physician. She’s written a novel, and no longer wakes up to snow.
Her last moments haunted me.
Yes, she was a mean old
witch, but to think
how death washed over her
How she must have felt,
she had no
of her final words.
Toto sniffing the black pool
of her empty robes.
Jennifer L. Freed writes mostly poetry, and occasionally some short fiction. Her poetry chapbook was published in 2014. Other work can be seen at Jfreed.weebly.com
May is the first month you start to feel summer. Sunshine. There’s just the threat of rain starting now and then.
A bit of wind through the lace curtains. And the little girl’s doll prepares for Wedding Day. Lavender is all around.
Afterwards, the little girl wishes she were elsewhere.
Ana Drobot is from Bucharest, Romania. She graduated from Bucharest University, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literature. She was awarded a PhD Degree for her thesis Virginia Woolf and Graham Swift: The Lyrical Novel
, in March 2014.