Author: Heavy Feather

“What He Said,” flash fiction by Matthew Meriwether

I ask her what he said. He her boyfriend. He her boyfriend, the bartender, the man who watches. He told her I was rude. He told her I made fun of him and the other bartenders. He told her I was with “that girl you hate.” That girl our old friend. Our old friend with…
Part the Second: “The Great Indoorsman” by Andrew Farkas

The Great Indoorsman PART THE SECOND From A Philosophy of the Indoors—Where I Lived, and What I Lived for: I went to the Indoors because, like Henry David Thoreau, I wished to live deliberately, I wished to front only the essential facts of life and see if I could not learn what it had to…
“Suite Polonaise,” a generational serial killer enquiry by Carrie Laben

Part 1: Cecelia As a child I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn’t love my grandmother. Everyone else loved their grandparents. But Cecelia Laben (or Labenski) (nee Trybusckewicz) confused me. She alarmed me. At least once, she kind of technically kidnapped me. And then there was the fact that she lied.…
Flash Fiction: “The Fire” by Matthew Meriwether

She sees a fire in the huge dark field to the left of the road we’re driving down. Do you see that fire? she says. I look ahead of me, I look up—all the wrong directions. I see the moon, that white fire, which is bright and full, unblinking. Why were we talking about fire?…
Andrew Farkas: “The Great Indoorsman, Part the First,” a serialized essay

“Look at it, Hastings. Not a building insight. Not a restaurant, not a theatre, not anart gallery. A wasteland.” —Hercule Poirot in“The Adventure of the Clapham Cook” The Great Indoorsman PART THE FIRST From A Philosophy of the Indoors—The Sublime: I often find myself in awe of the grandeur of the Indoors … An excerpt…
Our Pool Party Bus Forever Days, short stories by David James Keaton, reviewed by Jason Teal

Never mind that his introduction of best car chase cinema (“Gasoline Dreams”) is worth the price of admission, David James Keaton is a bizarrely prolific writer who gets slept on beyond our genre congregation, and this is the world’s biggest shame. I’m here to expose the wrongdoings of we vapid readers, and to provide recognition…
Essay: “If you really wanted to hear the news, you would take a walk through the city” by Tameca L Coleman

If you really wanted to hear the news, you would take a walk through the city I’ve taken a pause on my walk, distracted with all the things I’m carrying: my messenger bag, which keeps slipping off of my right shoulder, two bags of things from Target I didn’t really mean to buy, and a…
“A Flag Unfit to Fly,” poetry by Tim Kahl

A Flag Unfit to Fly The flag stayed up way too long and no oneknew how to properly retire it. It had beenraised too quickly. The young men in cargo pantshad not seen the skit about flag etiquette.They faced the flag and held their breath,sensing a vague feeling within themselvesit should not hang in the…
Two Poems by Nina Knueven

I Knew I Was O Positive When the subcutaneous purple balloonslocked up, guardingmy perforated veins. Universalresponsibility doesn’t articulate from head to toe,but from the thoracic cavity itself—flushing and swooshingin hostile torrents. Needles glint and bags are gratifiedwith new feed—teethy eyesmoving like meat grinders.Visceral tissues pump & pumpto catch up—inflating, deflating,& I’m turned on, thinking of…