Fiction

Fiction Fiction '25

Rain

Raindrops clink as they bounce off the roof tiles. The peaceful rhythm tries to lull Evelyn to sleep. They attempt to shake off their drowsiness.

Fiction Fiction '25

The Hut

“Folktales change form, forever lasting in the cultures they find home in.” — Kaci Zhang   “Baba Yaga! Come out you old hag!” I stare

Fiction Fiction '25

The Spheres

 Mid-morning teh tawar manis—black sugarless tea—on a Chinese corner across from Beringharjo. Chairs with backs & high tables; good lighting & fans.   After so long in

Fiction '24

Alaskan Lights

The lantern my wife believes I’ve returned is still sitting in my shotgun seat. As we leave for church, she opens the door and finds it sitting in her spot, lacking the courtesy to move an inch.