The patron saint of dykes knows you’re queer. Just knows. There isn’t a femme alive who is invisible to her.
Pray to the patron saint of dykes for pronouns that fit like your skin never did. Pray for your softball ...
Patron Saint of Dykes by Audrey R. Hollis
Fiction, LAR Online
Pablo
I opened my front door to let in some light and fresh air. A small dog wandered down the center of the street. On impulse I grabbed my cap and some small dog treats left over from my deceased Jack Russell. ...
Three Stories by Jim Peterson
Fiction, LAR Online
Sometimes, you abscond to a monastery in China for all the wrong reasons. You are running from your life and you think you hear a voice, way off in the distance, imploring you to drop what you are doing before the ...
You Might Hesitate by Eva Dunsky
Fiction, LAR Online
When I was seven years old, I was touched by a priest. It was at St. Ignatius Church in Fowler, Massachusetts. No one in Fowler was surprised to hear that Father Todd had molested a child, but all his past incidents had ...
Touched, by Antonio Elefano
Fiction, LAR Online
In my will, I left my remains to be split evenly by all of my ex-boyfriends. They already had me, might as well take me again.
To Whom It May Concern,
I hereby bequeath my body to my ex boyfriends, under ...
Dismember Me by Joanna Rafael Goldberg
Fiction, LAR Online
I stand at the kitchen entry, hands on my hips, trying to catch my breath. Outside, people in the streets of Kharkiv are panicked; the explosion sent them running this way and that. Inside, there is a sense of ...
The Pommel Horse by Olga Breydo
Fiction, LAR Online
Michelle wasn’t thinking about her little sister as she crossed Euclid Avenue that evening. She wasn’t thinking about trick-or-treating or her lazy costume, a black fright wig and bloody lips. She wasn’t ...
Halloween, Shaker Heights, 1992 by Thomas Price
Fiction, LAR Online
Here on the coast, the mornings bring outsiders. Crows from the Valley, like slashed black scarves, descend on the hillside houses and telephone poles. They squabble with the native gulls over the trash in the liquor ...
Subtraction by Sean Madden
Fiction, LAR Online
Once there were fires.
Macario started them, at first in the empty lots dotting our town. Several times I caught him feeding kerosene into trash-filled barrels near the hotel that doubled as a wax museum on ...
El Mano Negra by Mario J. Gonzales
Fiction, LAR Online
