I swim most days after work, at first because Prescription-Happy Hindu Granny told me to, but now I look forward to it. The water has become my respite, the soft aqua antidote to my other life, the noisy Kodachrome one, where staying afloat requires more than the flimsy raft with which I’ve been equipped.
Category: Howard Frank Mosher Short Fiction Prize
Things I think about while swimming.
The 4-D Dog
by April Kelly
Honorable Mention, Howard Frank Mosher Short Fiction Prize
Considering the number of dog owners in America, it is safe to speculate that on any given day a small percentage of the population wakes to find an unpleasant mess on the floor, as did Dylan Carter one Thursday in March. The difference between him and the others who made such a discovery that morning is Dylan did not own a dog.
Heliciculture
by Lisa Nikolidakis
Runner-Up, Howard Frank Mosher Short Fiction Prize
Ask anyone in Greece and they will tell you the same: our snails are best. From all over they come to our village in Crete to pluck the mollusks from their swirling shells and feel the soft dissolve against their tongues.
Random Sample
by Alan Sincic
Honorable Mention, Howard Frank Mosher Short Fiction Prize
So not but a week after the funeral and this thing, this crazy thing that happens. I’m trekking through Midtown – no temp job that day – past CBS Headquarters. You know, Black Rock. You’ve seen the pictures: black as a burnt marshmallow, thirty-eight floors of granite, kind of a cross between the Tower of… Continue reading Random Sample
by Alan Sincic
Honorable Mention, Howard Frank Mosher Short Fiction Prize
Theories
by B. Boyer-White
Honorable Mention, Howard Frank Mosher Short Fiction Prize
I have a mouthful of hot tea when it hits. A boom in the walls like a wrecking ball blow, then a whole series of them, pounding. Nothing breaks but the windows snake-rattle in their frames.