12/18/2012 - 5:41pm

Heaven Spent

by Jarod Facknitz

Peruvian Torch (by Dave Senecal)

It seems, throughout his life, that numbers played a vital role in his day to day. By counting to 1,357, he could awaken from a catatonic framework to find the entire downstairs completely spotless.  By counting to 254, a clockwise motion of his tongue (matched precisely...

12/11/2012 - 12:51am

Pontypool: the many lives of a Canadian horror classic

by Darren Callahan

The first time I saw the word “Pontypool,” I was in the bathroom at Chicago’s Music Box – a famous, old movie palace – attending the annual 24-hour horror-fest known as The Massacre.  A slanted poster with the complete running order of the festival was taped to...

12/08/2012 - 2:18am

Mr. January

by Kate Baggott

The Last Theorem (by Dave Senecal)

Mr. January is at least 43 now. He is the face of clean living and resolutions kept. In his fireman’s suspenders, he has the kind of muscled, but not overly muscled chest that reveals a good year of conscientious workouts at the gym. He’s acquiring that barrel-shape very...

12/05/2012 - 11:52am

The secret diary of John Hay

by Tom Laporte and Mike Brady

EDITOR’S NOTE:  John Hay was one of two secretaries who were like adopted sons to Abraham Lincoln.  He and John J. Nicolay assisted Lincoln, kept visitors at bay, and were always available as the 16th President managed the country’s greatest crisis. Together, Hay and...

12/01/2012 - 2:09am

Children's Stories

by Benjamin Wachs

In the end, it wasn’t the knights in shining armor or the friendly dragons that did it:  it was the pink bunnies that made my wife divorce me.  I write children’s books, you see, and so I’m always coming home with something new to put in a story.  At first she thought it...

11/28/2012 - 11:34am

Night Train

by Derek Thompson

Z Movie Syndicate (Dave Senecal)

We were strangers on the train, staring blankly at the dark glass, reflected in ebony sheets of remembrance. If I pressed my face to the pane, I could tell we were rushing by. But apart from a pale, flickering shadow on the window, we were nowhere.
No one spoke at...

11/26/2012 - 2:22pm

The Branch

by Kaitlyn Gentile

The Branch (by Aimee Cozza)

“The earworms are the worst part,” she was saying.


Ivan looked up from his beer.  She was staring at him with a nervous half-smile, her eyes wide black holes in the dim of the bar.  Her fingers interlocked around a glass of cranberry juice that she still...

11/21/2012 - 4:45pm

The Mercenary

by Benjamin Wachs

The Octobermen (by Dave Senecal)

He did not covet gold or jewels, though he had won them.  He traveled only with the whetstone needed to sharpen his spear, and punished anyone who came near it.  He slept soundly, and when he dreamed of the faces he had killed they were all turned away.

On Sparta...

11/18/2012 - 7:36pm

On Humanity’s Indefatigable Quest for Perfection

by Christopher Miller

The crust could be flakier

Preparing her dinner the other night, my wife was disappointed to notice that the “Sausage Rolls” she’d purchased from Zehrs contained “spicy chicken” filler. Apparently “Sausage Rolls” wasn’t meant to be read as an adjective modifying a noun but as a complete proper...

11/13/2012 - 2:03pm

Just Listen

by Martin Brick

It’s a warm summer evening, the kind that radio loves. Down at Rochambo the tv is on the fritz, vanquishing CNN, ESPN, and a whole slew of letters. Lou, the regular, can be heard saying, “the way things are going these days, I don’t know whether to laugh or shit or go...