by TNSF | Feb 1, 2021 | Stories, Vol. 4, Issue 3
Frankie’s fingers ran the length of the colonial style piano. There was not a speck of dust on the Honduran mahogany. The picture frames and artifacts resting atop its surface reflected across the gleaming wood, which despite its cleanliness, Frankie would polish...
by TNSF | Feb 1, 2021 | Stories, Vol. 4, Issue 3
Dana, Florida, 1996 Some days you wait for people to say something interesting. People talk in loops, and you want to hula hoop their words; you want movement and speed, shaking hips, energy. Your brain feels like every conversation’s been pre-recorded and when...
by TNSF | Jan 1, 2021 | Stories, Vol. 4, Issue 2
Auntie Lu was drunk. It was a sloppy, uncontrolled inebriation, a stumble off the edge of propriety rather than a purposeful dive. Not that anyone was here to judge her, not tonight. After all, allowances had to be made when a woman lost her sister. The rest of Vida’s...
by TNSF | Jan 1, 2021 | Stories, Vol. 4, Issue 2
In Myrtle Beach during the early summer of 2017, heretofore identified only as the days without time, my friends took to laughing at mini golf courses with water spurting from the mouths of enamel-coated dragons, vacated beachwear warehouses still boasting names like...
by TNSF | Jan 1, 2021 | Stories, Vol. 4, Issue 2
1. My grandma bought a trailer on the county line and left it to mom when she passed and I suppose if I wasn’t locked up I could lay claim one day. The old widow that collected lot rent always told us they weren’t trailers they were mobile homes but that was about the...
