Bullseye - Ramsey Mark Elias
Poses as Moses - Nicholas Carter
Karaoke - Doug Mathewson
Who Has Time? - Doug Mathewson
Viable Option - River T. Huffman
He let the revolver drop to the hardpan, heedless of his promise about minding the inlays on its grip. Watching his mother's lifeblood pulled into the greedy desert, he suspected he was going to have more to answer for than nicked ivory. His dad would understand, though. She'd drawn first.
Matthew Reda holds his degree in Creative Writing from Grand Valley State University in West Michigan. In addition to writing stories, Matt is the creator of a web-comic called A Life Under This One. He lives in Grand Rapids where he teaches language arts at the high school level.
Ramsey Mark Elias
That's what I love about this game. When the dart leaves your hand, you know it's a good one already. You don't have to be big or strong or quick. You see it before it happens. Bullseye! The most comforting feeling in the universe. And then you throw two more.
Ramsey Mark Elias currently lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania where he received both his Bachelors and his Masters from Carnegie Mellon University. He has also lived and worked in Baltimore, MD and Dublin, Ireland. He is currently working on his first novel and enjoying the weather of the eastern states with his two German Shepherds. His fiction and letters have appeared in Adbusters, Word Catalyst Magazine, and Gloom Cupboard.
He's a livin' myth on these streets. Long beard, white robe. Talks to God. Carries a shepherd's staff 'stead of a gun. Chants Hebrew, raises his arms and splits motherfuckers apart like the Red Sea. We follow him, always away, always away from rivers of blood, but where we goin'?
Nicholas J. Carter lives in southeastern Massachusetts with his lovely fiancé. He will be graduating (with honors) from the University of Massachusetts Boston in December, with a BA in English. His published work can be read in the UMB literary journal, The Watermark, and in the online journal, The Big Table.
Your sister and her friends were so drunk and loud, we were all told to leave the Karaoke bar. Adamantly you insisting on doing a song before we left, and sang “What’s New Pussy Cat” from the small and shabby stage. You were horrible, and I never loved you more.
Who Has Time?
Agitated and percolating with impatience I waited as he rang up my dollar books one by one. "Why can't he just multiply" I fumed. Placing my receipt and complimentary book-mark in the top volume, he shook his head and conversationally added, "Short stories, now who has time for those?"
Doug Mathewson lives on the Connecticut shoreline. He writes very short fiction that occasionally changes of its own volition into poetry or essay forms. He has been published here and there online, most recently at The Boston Literary Magazine, Doorknobs & Body Paint, and Six Sentences. His current project, True Stories from Imaginary Lives, can be found at www.little2say.org.
Granny Potter fussed over her porch plants, especially the one with leaves like jagged fingers that lay hidden behind Wandering Jews. She sat beside it, twisted a cigarette and looked to Heaven as she inhaled. "Forgive me Lord," she said hoarsely, "but I can't afford those damn expensive pain pills."
River T. Huffman writes from a farmhouse in rural West Tennessee.