Sometimes in the car, or in the moments before falling asleep, a recollection of him appeared. Maybe it was because I saw someone in his liking. A tall, thin stranger with his head down and hands in his pockets. Or, the radio played Green Day’s “When I Come Around.” So much time had passed. The ...

Leaves of scarlet and gold covered the street and sidewalk. The neon signage of the Italian restaurant, Pomodoro, shined blurry on the asphalt. The eatery consumed most of the block. It shed its warm interior into the wet outdoors. A large chalkboard menu visible to onlookers boasted happy hour specials in block letters. Amidst the ...

The Old Woman ran her fingertips over the dead leaves, then clenched her hand into a fist, and clawed at the drooped plants. Water dripped out of the hose on the dry ground beside her. A strong breeze rustled from beyond the garden fence. They stood in the distance. Without her glasses, they were blurry ...

Our story begins on a Tuesday in the cafeteria of minimum wage jobs. None of us wanted to be there; then again, who wants to work a job that only allowed a bare minimum of living? We were just three strange faces who barely knew each other. Our shifts were different, so we were passing ...