Fall 2018 Issue
Winner, 2018 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
No one talked about the difficulty of the first transition because no one could talk at that time. We weren’t even apes. Barely sentient beings. Un-cognizant of our own evolution happening. A leaf pushed in the wind. Twigs swept on the stream. We simply became, suddenly.
This time, the second time….
Winter 2017 Issue
Winner, 2017 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
The family of Jack Shane
wishes to thank you
for your kindness and sympathy
at this difficult time.
Winter 2017 Issue
Winner, 2017 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Sandi liked math. When her grandmother suggested that high school might be easier if she’d lose a little weight, Sandi began counting calories. She worked out that she could have an ice cream soda if she skipped breakfast and lunch….
Spring 2017 Issue
Winner, 2016 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Michael’s afraid the TV will blow up again. Two others have burst right here in this living room. He pads his fingers against the TV’s black face. He loves the television. When he pulls his fingertips from the screen, they’re gray, powdered in fine dust….
Winter 2015 Issue
Winner, 2015 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Ms. Kramer was explaining the difference between infinitives and imperatives to Lily Spencer for — not kidding — the fifth time when Jarod Troutman slapped a pair of cuffs on her. Half a pair, technically. The other ring was attached to his own wrist…
Winter 2015 Issue
Winner, 2015 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Night.
Homecoming starts after sunset.
The crowd spills in from the three directions: East lot, North lot, and Weir lot — the one named after the teacher who died the year before we came….
Spring 2015 Issue
Winner, 2014 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
All through the hot summer of 1957, whenever they had the time, Patricia wanted to picnic down near the prison at Angola. She liked to be right up close, as close as they could get without the guards shooing them away. She and Clemson would drive down one of the levees until the fences were in view…
Spring 2014 Issue
Winner, 2013 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
By the time he gets there the calf is dead and has been for some time — the meat will be sour and rank by the time it gets to the hooks in the ruined barn; it won’t even be good enough to grind up for stew meat. He sees dollar signs dead in the water, but what’s another lost five hundred dollars at this point?
Fall 2013 Issue
Winner, 2013 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Dad’s taken Charlie ahead to ball practice while I continue to scour Sideline 22 for Mom’s uterus. Mom’s always losing something. I don’t mind being left to carry out search and rescue. I suck at ball. Besides, any minute now Lori Penter will be coming home from her piano lesson. She’s forbidden to talk to me on account of the holy war, but if she was allowed, she’d say hi — maybe.
Winter 2013 Issue
Winner, 2012 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Just a few minutes ago I began to feel the tide tugging a little harder, the fog closing in, and I knew without looking at my watch that it was close to quitting time. I’m tired — bone weary, really. In the space of only one afternoon I took a threesome of middle-aged women back, one by one, to 18th-century Lisbon….