Fiction

Kevin G. Barnhurst

I wrote this story under a spell. I was living in Salt Lake City, not in the sprawl of the new suburbs, nor even in the politically correct neighborhoods of the East Bench or the Avenues near the university, but in the Marmalade District. Gentrification has since remade the area, but at that time and for much of its history, it was a backwater of decaying pioneer dwellings and odd apartments made from broken Victorian homes, squeezed onto the foothills below Ensign Peak. 

Ron Molen

The boy liked to visit his Polish grandparents in their small, brick bungalow just around the corner from the parish church. The neigh borhood was clean, orderly. Almost everyone was Polish or Irish, and everyone…

Karin Anderson England

When Aunt Iona died in August, I was glad I didn’t have to visit the nursing home anymore. Iona was my great-aunt, my long-dead Grandma’s sister. I loved her, of course, but when I heard…

David R. Trottier

My humble plan for the financial salvation and exaltation of every soul who has the sense to sign up  I have seen a vision. I have become a new man. And boy, am I excited! Not…

Michael Fillerup

She rarely blew her cool and never ever swore, but—”Dammit! Hell!”  The metal stirring spoon rebounded off the sink and took a bite out of the kitchen wall.  The real Tracy Sequaptewa?  She glared at…

Karen Rosenbaum

Paula had the aisle seat. Her younger brother Tony was in the middle, next to Sugar, and the two of them pressed against the window and each other and pointed at cloud formations. Down below…

C. Everett Crowe

At least the kids were gone, settled among family for the next ten or twelve hours. That gave him some time to pull himself together, to sort things out before tomorrow, before the rest of…

Michael Fillerup

Brother Rice, the first counselor, says the bishop thinks the young people might be more responsive to someone who, oh, speaks a little more their language. Then he smiles, hands me the Sunday school manual,…

Don McDermott

I suppose we all share the same space at one time or another. One can search out these spaces, as I have. Outside Paris I spent an afternoon mulling about in Malmaison, Napoleon and Josephine’s…

Robert Hodgson Van Wagoner

The same week Karmine discovers her husband is having an affair with a man, she takes her mother to a doctor who finds a tiny patch of cancer on the tip of the old woman’s…