new world writing

Lucinda Kempe ~ Brown Sparrow

Brown Sparrow was asleep in a lin­den tree when the first sui­cide bomber blew up. The two fol­low­ing implo­sions shook her body. She didn’t pause to breathe but left the lin­den tree and flew along the Canal de St. Denis, past… Continue Reading →

Avital Gad-Cykman ~ To Catch Her

Through the heavy rain hit­ting my win­dow ledge, we see her bal­ance on the tightrope, her arms row­ing in the air. She would give her life for her art, we say to each other. This per­for­mance is the real thing,… Continue Reading →

Gary Percesepe ~ Raptors

The Republicans started their con­ven­tion in Cleveland, Ohio today. The TV is on with the sound muted, and I’ve raised the blinds to look out the win­dow at the two hawks in my back yard. I’m lying in bed as… Continue Reading →

Nelly Zann ~ I Turn My Music Loud

My mother leaves a tense mes­sage on my phone. “I need you here tomor­row. I’m out of pads.” I live ninety miles away in New Orleans but I’m on vaca­tion. We haven’t spo­ken in six weeks, since I took my son to visit… Continue Reading →

Girija Tropp ~ Once I Was Honey

I want to com­mit the details of this win­ter to mem­ory and next year I will be able to fig­ure out small dif­fer­ences. All around where I sit at the bar, this black and steel enclave, the roast­ing of cof­fee beans is… Continue Reading →

Kathy Fish ~ Imagine Your Daughter Is a Cherry Red Convertible

The body is a tem­ple and Sundays are for rest. If only you worked hard. Enjoy food but don’t overindulge. Trim your nails and keep them scrupu­lously clean. Likewise see that your chil­dren are bathed and immac­u­lately dressed. Do not allow… Continue Reading →

Paige Clark ~ Dead Summer

The year my mother dies, my boyfriend catches me jump­ing out of the win­dow of our house. We live on the first floor. He stands in the yard with his arms folded across his chest and one eye­brow raised. “I… Continue Reading →

Michael Holladay ~ Retroactive

Before Jake went to Hideaway Lounge, he assessed him­self in his bath­room mir­ror to see if he’d mea­sure up to the younger men. He stared at the top of his head. The glop of gel – a first time pur­chase –… Continue Reading →

Andrew Morgan ~ Services

I am not the dancer with her left foot some­how wedged against the rail. Not the dancer then or eigh­teen min­utes prior as she dashed cry­ing from a build­ing very much alone and mind­less and with­out direc­tion. I’m not her nor sur­prised… Continue Reading →

John Holman ~ Vacation

I got to Dexter’s house about 6:00 on a warm Saturday October evening. His wife Olivia opened the door wear­ing red Capri pants that looked new, and a white T-shirt and red san­dals.  She looked like sum­mer and Christmas at the same… Continue Reading →

Christopher James ~ All I Need Now is One Enormous Bowl to Catch Them Together

The villa has small lizards, tokay geckos. Beads for eyes, ghost jade skin, dis­tinc­tive squawks. At first they were cute, until a cou­ple fell on us dur­ing the night,. I catch a baby, smaller than my favourite fin­ger, under a plas­tic soy bowl, then… Continue Reading →

Mel Bosworth ~ Days Not His

I stood in the park­ing lot of Rudy’s Oil. I hadn’t been to Five Streams since I was a kid. The sky was thin and gray and the air smelled like ice which to me smelled like win­ter. Across the street was a ratty… Continue Reading →

Ron Padgett ~ And Truly

Michael Putnam ~ Sharing Space

Since the blind­fold out­side of Maude’s Crab Castle, every­thing had been dark­ness and pain. In the park­ing lot, a brusque hand forced him into a trunk fol­lowed shortly by the sound of a car door clos­ing.

Zachary C. Solomon ~ Old Country

It was sort of sur­real the way the whole thing unfolded. We picked up Grandma and Grandpa in Mom’s Honda Odyssey. Grandpa was wear­ing a plaid short-sleeved shirt tucked into khakis. He had some stub­ble on his cheeks which pricked when… Continue Reading →

Girija Tropp ~ 3 Fictions

HANGNAIL My ex came for three weeks and his leav­ing is over­due so I am going to move but I plan to look out for him and maybe keep my name on this lease if our boys can­not find a ground floor with… Continue Reading →

Andrew James Weatherhead ~ Shipping and Handling

Charlotte doesn’t speak Spanish. She took two years of French in high school and, because she thought it would be funny, a year of Latvian in col­lege to sat­isfy a lan­guage require­ment, but it wasn’t funny and she got a C. The pro­fes­sor… Continue Reading →

Glen Pourciau ~ Table

We’d planned to have din­ner with the Hardaways at a restau­rant we’d never been to, a pop­u­lar new fish place.  They had been there a num­ber of times already, enough to be con­sid­ered reg­u­lars and to know which table to ask for, so… Continue Reading →

Stefanie Freele ~ Well-Dressed Executives

Around the white table­cloth: men in suits with cuf­flinks. They order Up Olive, Dry, On the rocks. The wait­ers, many of them stu­dents, keep to the periph­ery, watch­ing signs of low scotch, the tin­kle of ice. Food is eaten or… Continue Reading →

Maddie Clevenstine ~ There Was Something Growing

The woman learned she couldn’t have chil­dren. Her doc­tor said he was very sorry to tell her this, and pat­ted her knee, and looked at her thought­fully, like her inabil­ity to have chil­dren was a puz­zle, or her con­di­tion was an… Continue Reading →

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