Category: The Last Word

“An Ending for Her,” flash fiction by Matthew Meriwether

What if I walked up to your front door again. What if, at the sight of me on the front porch, the same front porch with so many stale memories, instead of laughing at my patheticness, you smiled with surprising relief. What if you had gained a little weight, the weight symbolic of your settling…
“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…
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?…
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…
“A Growing Crisis,” a Presidential erasure by Tara Campbell

*Ed.’s Note: click images to view larger sizes. Tara Campbell (taracampbell.com) is a fiction editor at Barrelhouse and an MFA candidate at American University. Prior publication credits include SmokeLong Quarterly, Masters Review, b(OINK), Booth, Spelk, Jellyfish Review, Strange Horizons, and Heavy Feather Review. Her debut novel, TreeVolution, was published in 2016, and her collection, Circe’s…
Five Poems by Alyse Knorr

Wolf Tours: Day One The wolves have eaten the children—or so say the clients, unaware of the existenceof Junior Wolf Tours and the mandatoryseparation of young and old. At the small ones’ camp they die daily in games of Graveyard,which, according to the wolves, prepares themto be unafraid of silence and stillness—betterhunters, all. And despite…
“Trial of the Hippocampus,” a poem by Sarah Cheshire

Her: uproarious laughter— a narrow staircase—Me: cheap cologne— wilted rosemary on the windowsill—Her: distant voices— strong hands— breathlessness —Me: mildew— snow— a single half-burnt candle— Them: but which came first, the beerOr the laughterAnd was it you who let his rosemaryWither—(And when you say your rosariesDo your sons prayFor him like his…