Micro Prose: At The 4th Of July Potluck The Year She Moves Back Home by Amanda Bales

At The 4th Of July Potluck The Year She Moves Back Home I suck the marrow from the chicken leg, slurp the devil from its eggs, swill it down with the good beer then make room for a sheet cake slice the size of a house shingle. All this while other ladies skirt the table,… Read More Micro Prose: At The 4th Of July Potluck The Year She Moves Back Home by Amanda Bales

Micro Prose: I Had Three Daughters by Andrew F. Sullivan

I Had Three Daughters The first one did not survive the night. I birthed her on the beach below our house, the lighthouse around the bay illuminating our loss in syncopated minutes as it flicked across conjoined flesh, ticking down the breaths and making the blood look brighter than it would in the morning light.… Read More Micro Prose: I Had Three Daughters by Andrew F. Sullivan