Summer Barbecue
by Matt Pine
Issue No. 167 ~ April, 2011
But then something will happen. A few words that were supposed to mean something small and specific will become a lot of words about something important, amorphous and large.
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Macro-Fiction Archives
Two Ladies Under The Influence
by Joanne de Simone
Issue No. 167 ~ April, 2011
She takes a couple of healthy gulps. Without such completely feminine hands, her beer chugging might be considered downright unladylike.
The Face on the Kitchen Floor
by Stephen Moles
Issue No. 167 ~ April, 2011
A large blob of grayish-green was visible therein, and its presence I acknowledged with a muttered 'for Christ's sake' because to me it suggested a leaking fridge and a whole lot of hassle.
Frank O’Hara
by Katherine Nelson
Issue No. 166 ~ March, 2011
He went home to Nebraska and found all the letters he had written waiting for him, returned to his parents' house, unopened. Betty was nowhere.
Altered Beast
by Ken Brosky
Issue No. 166 ~ March, 2011
There’s a guy living in my storage room. I noticed it about a month ago, when I went into the basement of my apartment building to drop off a box full of old Evil Dead posters I’d collected at college poster sales.
Salsa
by Christin Rice
Issue No. 165 ~ February, 2011
She concentrated-posture, frame, steps, smile-but by the time the song ended she couldn't help smiling, beaming really, and her partner let her go with a "gracias," and a slight bow.
We Are All Together in the End
by Scott Tucker
Issue No. 165 ~ February, 2011
Thunderheads gathered over the green mountains every afternoon into a sure rainstorm, and yet they moved off to other valleys before the rain fell. The truth about life is
The Way of It
by Richard Weems
Issue No. 164 ~ January, 2011
For fifteen years, I have trained to kill the old man. I am good with a knife and can ooze my way through a dark room, but there is a ritual to uphold, the ritual the old man learned from his teacher.
Interstate Nocturne
by Gregory J. Wolos
Issue No. 163 ~ December, 2010
I’m smashing my own hole through the star-freckled night, nothing around to be sucked into my trail except a few small animals that trickle out of the humps of forest the highway splits.
One Dentist, Many Frogs
by Kate Horsley
Issue No. 163 ~ December, 2010
The frogs, the unemployed men sitting at tables in cafes and restaurants were sometimes compelled by night or rain or no money in the pocket to disappear.
