Prose – Hospital Drive

Leaving the Body – “Leaving” Contest Winner

by Lisa Knopp

A woman enters the room and sits a basin of water on the bedside table. “I’m here to get your mother ready for the people who are coming to pick her up soon,” she says softly. My brothers and sister-in-law excuse themselves and head to the family lounge. I linger.

Leaving Time – “Leaving” Contest Runner-Up

by Judith Hannah Weiss

...It was an accident. The accident of a drunk with a truck. Mrs. Cream ran out of beer for breakfast, so she stole a truck and ran into me. In a two-ton GMC.

Leaving My Father – “Leaving” Contest Runner-Up

by Ann Kammerer

A story told in ten 100-word chapters

Geese – “Leaving” Contest Runner-Up

by Toni Fuhrman

“So you want me to go to one of those nursery homes.”

The Perils of Preventative Medicine

by Mary Mullen

“This is the panic button. Just push this if you need to come out.”

Home

by Paddy Reid

In all his eleven years, Liam Bollard had never been away from Dublin. He really missed the sounds of Portside Street.

Eulogy

by Lisa Gruenberg

Today, Magda – Contest Winner

by Catherine Harnett

Today she will be Magda, Hungarian, in brocade; her scarlet velvet shoes with bows, so ladylike.

Café – Contest Runner Up

by Laura Bonazzoli

“Come on,” he pleaded, his black eyes shifty with morphine. “Let’s blow this joint. You and me. Let’s get outta here. Go to a café somewhere and talk.”

When Johnny Comes Marching Home

by Katherin Hervey

I am their Commander. The one in the wheelchair with the permanent scowl. I got my legs blown off in Iraq. But my arms and chest are ripped from the gym. I like to take my shirt off and show the tendons popping from my muscles so people know I ain’t weak.