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The Last Gabbeh by Mira Martin-Parker

Okay, so I was driving a little fast. I had a new Porsche. I had just gotten a divorce. So I was speeding a little. So what? I happened to be in Bakersfield visiting a client—an old farmer with over a hundred acres of prime agricultural land who had recently managed to get himself into […]Read More

We're not in Five-one Land Now by Wendy Breuer

A room filled with grey emeritus professors, husbands led by the hand to their seats by wives in sensible shoes. They are the wilting flowers of cultural appreciativeness in this university town. The musicians take their seats, women in long black skirts, and the men tuxedoed.  A few minutes of discordant practice and then the […]Read More

Seattle by Peter J. Stavros

  The call came early in the morning, impossibly, ungodly, early, with the sudden shrill ringing of the phone first echoing in my dream, whatever I was dreaming about, and then shattering the stillness of the bedroom. I opened my eyes, blinked to focus, to see Ashley sound asleep next to me – sometimes I […]Read More

Night Shift by Stephen D. Gutierrez

He had always wanted to fuck a corpse, and now that he had done it, he didn’t feel so great. He sat in dejection next to the stiff, who looked the same. He had this night job cleaning up. He had work to do in the psychological department. He began to dance with the corpse […]Read More

Something in the Way by Andrew Gordon Rogers

  Underneath the bridge The tarp has sprung a leak And the animals I’ve trapped Have all become my pets And I’m living off of grass And the drippings from the ceiling — Kurt Cobain, Something in the Way   We missed it when we heard the whistle and climbed up, but from the hilltop […]Read More

Beaks by Kim Magowan

Crouching in the ugly paisley armchair in the Littlebrooks’ den, facing the front door, Trish seethes. Her job is to stand guard. If Mrs. Littlebrook comes back from wherever she is (book club? Crochet group? Gin was vague, typically dismissive), Trish is supposed to give a signal. “Oh hi, Mrs. Littlebrook!” Inflate her voice to […]Read More

 

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The Educator by Sarah Melton

An MFA right after undergrad and straight into a paid position. Not bad, right? But you won’t find my book in the storefront. No Pulitzer, not even a “Joel’s staff pick” sticker thrown on the cover. When I was hired I fantasized about National Book Prizes and intimate literary gatherings at George Saunders’ house. I […]Read More

First Down by Christina Gardner

Brett Llewellyn comes to mind. On a clouded day, Brett Llewellyn stood on the field in the schoolyard. He was a freckled lanky boy with a conservative cut of red hair. He cradled a football, helmet-less. After a whistle, his red hair jostled as he dipped, faked left, and ran. He wore no team uniform—a […]Read More

Driver Training Days by John Laue

I       What was I doing sitting in a car careening from lane to lane of the Golden Gate Bridge, my heart in my throat, while Mrs. Cerf, my driving student, freaked out? Maybe I’m not cut out for this kind of drama, I thought. Maybe I should have turned down the job.          I’d had to […]Read More

THINGS WE SHOULD’VE SAID by Angie Walls

It’s October, but I have no idea what day it is. I am still a ghost of myself. The sky is hopelessly black, with only a couple dim streetlights to shine the stairway up the hill to Lo Coco’s, where I’m meeting Pete. I find myself stumbling on the way to the restaurant, the one […]Read More

Escape Velocity by Rebecca Chekouras

I couldn’t let my husband know I was driving. One week from my due date, big as a manatee, I sped through San Francisco hoping to get home before he found out, but the closer I got to our apartment in The Mission, the more new construction choked the streets. In the few hours I’d […]Read More

SuperChad by Alan Good

  I was irrumating a blow-up doll when the phone rang. I let it ring, or ding, or radiate, which was the name of the ringtone. If I didn’t finish I was going to smash a building or hurl a car into space. I get that way. We all do. A blow-up doll. How pathetic, […]Read More

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The Cat by Jeff Fleischer

  Sitting in a bar on Christmas Eve didn’t feel out of the ordinary for David Silver. He was still unmarried, and his last relationship had ended months earlier, before there was even an awkward discussion about whose parents they would visit and how much time he’d need to take off work and what was […]Read More

The Christmas Party (1968) by Warren Read

  It was almost five-thirty by the time they pulled out of their driveway and onto the boulevard. The roads were already glassy and slick, and a white crystalline fog draped from the line of streetlamps. Gil held tightly to the wheel, his back inches from the seat as he hunched forward. The car floated […]Read More

How Much Do You Tip by Sean McCollum

I stared out the window at the bare trees, the stubbly cornfields, the barns with their hex signs. It was the Monday after Thanksgiving and my folks and I were headed out to pick out a Christmas tree. Feliz Navidad blared into my ear from the stereo speaker directly behind my head. “Anything you want […]Read More

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Strawberry Ice Cream Glacé by Alvin Orloff

I couldn’t find a boyfriend, so all I could do was eat – mostly strawberry ice cream glacé, my own invention. I made it by pouring ruby port wine very slowly over ice cream so that it froze a little. A small drizzle created an elegant glassine crust, though I often ended up with something […]Read More

An Apologia (For the Beastliness of Carol) by M.J. Nicholls

PART ONE: REUNION On a thermal night at ten past ten Carol swaddled her firstborn in a bath towel and laid him on a step outside Flick-Picks video shop. A screening of Françoise Truffaut’s La Nuit américaine was taking place inside and up to four people had arrived for the event. The salival softening of […]Read More

Brunch by William Auten

  One of the things he loves about his cousin is her out-of-the-box, unique approach to life, novel things to try and novel places to go, most often spurned on by reviews she’s read in the Post or on the Web, especially the food and drink reviews. And lately their get-togethers coincidentally happen when their […]Read More

Pickwick Bowl (Burbank, CA) by Justin McFarr

“I’m sorry, Vernon, I really am. I just wasn’t… you know, expecting it to be that much.” The father opened the door to the Pickwick Bowl. Light streamed into the darkened entryway as he led his son toward the service island forty feet down the carpeted hall. “It’s okay, Dad. No big deal.” The boy […]Read More

The Escaped Air by Natasha Patel

Shaila paused at the door before entering the hotel room. She leaned against the frame to prevent it from closing, letting only the tips of her toes cross the threshold. The Lovely had upgraded them to the Honeymoon Suite, as a token of gratitude for the six hundred and eleven wedding guests she had brought.   […]Read More

The Ride Back Home by Kimberly Reyes

  I prayed the thin white wires hanging from my ears would serve as sign, a signal saying: “Better to ask someone else for directions, or for the time. My time.” As a native New Yorker, I’d learned at a very early age how to erect invisible boundaries.   I was studying the Eiffel Tower […]Read More

Model Home by Marléne Zadig

Respectable people assume that they can perceive the danger in a place proportional to the level of rust and decay afflicting the objects inhabiting a property. Barbed wire, warped and twisted into a rats’ nest of tetanus; corrugated iron, bleeding down rust from the bullet wound of a screw hole; rusty nails sprouting out of […]Read More

 

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Vacancy by Melanie J. Cordova

At best, the words were vestigial, parts of speech that had atrophied in the womb. When the “rescue party” searched for the hiker lost in the Jemez Mountains, it had been anything but lively. The faces in the van driving to the campsite were somber, nervous, hands wiping at noses and scratching the backs of […]Read More

Burn Up On the Mountain by Becky Mandelbaum

“Here’s the problem,” the German is saying. “You say you want to be alone, and then I turn around and find you with another guy.” He’s standing above me, holding onto one of the bus’s overhead straps. His nails are dirty, a thin smile of darkness at the end of each finger. The lights of […]Read More

On The Field Of Play by Anthony Ausiello

Our ten year-old annual sponge ball game always ends the same way. Al wins. He switches around to bat lefty to give me what he would call a fair chance. He’s cocky even when he’s down 6-3 in the bottom of the ninth. He thinks his string of victories will go on forever, like DiMaggio’s […]Read More

Humans of Scandi Whov by Mark Rapacz

Illustrated by Christopher Coffey  Read More

Interlude by Alyssa Oursler

He was a big fan of silence, except when he wasn’t. He was a big fan of Chipotle too. Over a burrito bowl one day during lunch, Dom talked about Berkeley tee shirts. He had graduated from the school but declared that he would never wear one because he didn’t want to flaunt it. I […]Read More

Inevitable by Michael Overa

Sara stands at the kitchen sink rinsing her cereal bowl, and as the water goes from white to milky pearl to clear she is already up on her tiptoes and craning her neck to see over the fence into the neighbor’s yard. She shuts off the water and sets her bowl beside the sink, leaning […]Read More

World Peace Part I by Emily Kiernan

August 6th, 1945. Berkeley, CA The roast was nearly finished, and the beans would go into the water as soon as she’d set it to boil. Linda wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and stretched her neck to one side and then the other, feeling the crackling with a burst of pride—she’d worked hard. […]Read More

 

 

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Jungles of America by Jessica Barksdale

After Evelyn Scrimshaw had her hip replaced, her husband Dave carted her off to the rehab facility instead of bringing her right home to recuperate in her own bed. “I’ve got to work! Someone has to. How can I take care of you on top of everything else?” he asked. Before she could think of […]Read More

BECOMING OUR FATHERS by Lisa Mae DeMasi

The biggest influence on the child is the unmet dreams of their parents. –Carl Jung Every reader has a secret obsession. Besides masters like Tolstoy, Austen and Marquez, bedtime often finds me curled up with books by those wily women who somehow make it up the ladder to the c-suite. What strikes me most about […]Read More

What God Said by Shruti Swamy

I slept all day and when I awoke, it seemed as though my bed tilted itself, dipping up and down in my room like a little boat, and I was awash in the river of evening. I could hardly sit up. There was a burning in my body, and a fuzziness of vision, a blur […]Read More

Mr. Wonderful Knows All (But Won’t Tell You Shit) by Rochelle Spencer

When the sun sets on San Pablo avenue and the sky melts into a series of fluorescent and baby-blanket pinks, Mr. Wonderful, the most famous street hustler in all of Oakland, comes out to play. Mr. Wonderful is one of those men who’d been handsome once, and is, truth told, handsome now–even in his dirty […]Read More

Humans of Scandi Whov by Mark Rapacz

Illustrated by Christopher Coffey         Read More

Something to Talk About, Something to Say by Hugh Behm-Steinberg

  I’m sitting by myself, trying to get some work done on a project while I’m on my break, when a gentleman in a nice suit sits down across from me. “How much is your time worth?” he pitches me. I’m bored, so I catch, but before I can say anything he puts his finger […]Read More

One Day in Pleasant Park by Jake Fuchs

Leaning on his cane, his broad back turned toward us, Mr. Russell considers me over his left shoulder. I don’t know how to interpret that steady look.  Oh, certainly he was upset by what I said. I know that much. He’d stopped in mid-stride, stopped dead. And now he turns. And what he says completely […]Read More

David, the cephalopod by Ploi Pirapokin

1. At the California Academy of Arts and Sciences, a sign above the octopus exhibition said: No flash photography allowed at the octopus tank. I wouldn’t want to be on display for the world to see either – it would be too much like high school, where word spread like rain clouds in the sky […]Read More

House Cleaning by Bill Schillaci

He turned into our driveway in a dinged Mazda pickup with power washing equipment in the bed.  There was a pump attached to an upright heat exchanger tank, a black hose rolled up onto a yellow reel, and a cluster of spray wands bundled together like Roman fasces with a length of clothesline.  “Victory in […]Read More

Pancakes on the Ice by Melissa Wiley

Did she know I might be in love with her husband? She did, I was certain. The love usually lasted for only twenty-four hours in succession, enough for me to dream of him the night after I’d just seen him. Each time I saw him again, however, the dream lengthened. As Kirsten looked at me, […]Read More

 

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The Secret Life of David McLiddy by Jacqueline Doyle

“David.” His wife’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Did you call the plumber?” Shit. His fantasy evaporated abruptly. E. had been bent over his desk, sundress pushed up around her back, panties on the floor, legs splayed, and he’d been fucking her from behind, plunging into her warm, wet pussy, hands cupping her ass […]Read More

Personal Injury by Kenneth Radu

Late for work like that frigging rabbit, except he was late for the Queen’s garden party—off with his head—and wouldn’t that solve some of her problems except decapitation was neither viable nor amusing. People would object, and her heart grieved for the poor men who had been beheaded in Iraq insofar as she could grieve […]Read More

The Water or the Wife by Jordan E. Rosenfeld

Justine’s feet burn in the wrong shoes—the lucky red boots with turquoise tips, boots that usually tempt the fates, call on rain gods to drench the soft leather. She couldn’t bring herself to wear sandals in winter. “Never seen a February look like July,” says the farmer, reaching up to touch the curling edges of […]Read More

Rock, Paper, Scissors by D'Arcy Fallon

I. I’m calling my new husband from a pay phone not far from Pescadero State Beach on a wind-blown summer afternoon. It’s 1985 and the clouds are drifting in. Dunes and cliffs and wildflowers and cattails and buckwheat and pebbles. Driftwood logs and kelp and oh sweet Jesus lots and lots of rocks. I lean […]Read More

Whisper to a Scream by Nafissa Thompson-Spires

  The comments poured in steadily, and though she never responded to them right away, sometimes taking up to a week so as not to look too eager, Raina always read them almost as quickly as her viewers posted. She ignored the inevitable N-word, monkey, and black-fetish cracks, some of the main reasons for her […]Read More

Rabbit Outside by Carol Park

Nicholas leans in close to the two photos he grips: himself at graduation from eighth grade and, four years later, high school. In both, his blue eyes are set between a pale forehead and high cheekbones. Something is different about his look. Something more than the length of his straw-colored hair. What he really wants […]Read More

 

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On Having No Tits by Suzannah Weiss

  On having no tits: a feminist interlocution of Douglas Harding’s “On having no head”   Proposal of the Theory of Tit-Eyes Eyes, Tit E. University of Boobsborough Quarterly Journal of Tits and Ass, Volume 36D “There existed only the Now, that present moment and what was clearly given in it. To look was enough. And […]Read More

Kîlauea and the Curtain of Fire by Ryan McKinley

The week started with a volcanic eruption and it continued with a death. Kîlauea volcano burst and Kelsey Araki, a sixteen-year-old sophomore at Kohala High School, was murdered. Both events hit Detective Achilles Naluaka. He was assigned the case of the murdered girl the same day lava started flowing toward his home. The house and […]Read More

Moles by Helga D. Stroya

      About the Author and Artist: Helga D. Stroya draws comics at her kitchen table in Portland, Oregon.  You can see more of her work on her new website at http://helgadstroya.com/ or follow her on Instagram @helga_d_stroya.  She also has a tumblr page which she rarely updates under the same name.  Helga D. Stroya can be […]Read More

Dual Income by Nadeem Zaman

Maruf was against Salma returning to work, but not because he thought she was incapable. He was, simply put, old-fashioned. Salma had been fine with being a housewife. Fifteen years had passed since she was teaching, a decade and a half during which they had two children, a military government came to an end, religious […]Read More

Oakland, California 94607 by Rebecca Chekouras

  A clerk wielding a Remington Rand had pounded his full legal name, Earl Anthony Jones, Jr., onto the original 1969 business license fading on the wall by his chair, the window chair. In the double frame next to it, an old snapshot of his daughter, all arms and legs, was balanced by a recent, […]Read More

Blue Dun by Jason Kapcala

When the ice begins to thaw from the lakes and streams, my brother Drew and I put in for our vacations, leave our homes, and migrate north to Lakeville. It’s part of a promise we made back when we were still in high school: to return to the spawning grounds of our ancestors and work […]Read More

When the Lane Ends and Other True Memos by Kelsey Liebenson-Morse

Date: October Third, 2014 To: Hecklers of Morgantown From: Enraged Female Subject: Who Do You Think You Are? Strike One: First you leer at me, four of you out of a moving truck. You say something, but luckily I can’t hear because I am talking to my friend. I am still trying to forget last […]Read More

 

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A Comic Strip in Ten Panels by Barry Blitstein

Ignacio Pena_For Blitstein


 

  1. A comic strip in ten panels: In the first panel, there is a crescent moon. In the second, a cow. In the third, the cow spins its tail and inflates its udders. In the fourth, the cow rises and in the fifth, reaches the clouds. In the sixth,...’Read

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What Really Happened by Sylvia J. Martinez

 


It wasn’t a penny, actually. It was a nickel. But she’d called it a penny. That I’ll never forget.
We’d been walking home from school which at the time for me was Edison Elementary in San Francisco’s Mission District. Our mascot was the “Lightbulb.” I was in the...’Read


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Snow Globe by Monica Wesolowska

From his hospital bed, he could not feel the heat of the day, but he could see the wind tearing the last, wrinkled leaves from the silver branches of a tree and bending the top of an evergreen beyond. He thought he should ask her the day. “Tuesday,” Helen said. But what he had meant […]Read More

Green to Blue by Rebecca A Eckland

  When my partner of seven years begins to see another woman, he will buy me a small, calico cat.         It’s a Saturday in November, and we’re out together when I see the cat in a cage in a PetCo. He immediately offers to buy her for me, and I won’t […]Read More

Matthew 13 by Seann McCollum

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A Tight Spot by Jacqueline Doyle

  Sure I felt like an asshole. We’ve all been in tight spots made us think about what assholes we are, gave us time to ponder. I had all night, and then some.         Seasonal work was the best I done last year, working for Mel’s Electronics for the Christmas rush. Black […]Read More

The Tricycle by Stephen D. Gutierrez

        My dad picked up the tricycle for me from the Martinez’s around the corner.  I was afraid for him because my dad was sick, and the Martinez’s were tough, and I feared something wrong happening, something violent, something bad.  I watched him walk out of our yard through the gate at […]Read More

Jonah Hex by Le Cram

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Payback by Jacqueline Berkman

              Tamara was yelling at Peter to get in the car, but her mind was on the garden of the Malibu house, sensing that everything could begin or end there. As Peter shuffled down the stairs with a morose gait, she envisioned a pebbled entryway and bougainvillea everywhere. It was […]Read More

The Tenderloin by Vincent Chu

The smell of urine was almost unbearable, but by the corner it passed, replaced by the smell of wet vegetables from the curb. The restaurants, hip ethnic ones included, had closed up shop and pulled shut their iron accordion gates, and it was getting to about that time in the night when the population shifted, […]Read More

Aggressive Fiction by Justin McFarr

             Burton Fielding entered the classroom on the first day of school, more uncertain of himself and his future than he had been in eight years of teaching. More than uncertain, he was terrified. His soul had yet to recover from the drubbing, both physical and psychological, he had received […]Read More

Ten Dollars and Detroit by Kenneth Radu

Our friendship occurred years before Detroit burned. Years later I learned the word that describes what my best friend liked doing to me, or perhaps doing to himself. A telephone pole may have served as well, although now I understand that something like willing flesh was his preferred choice. I never said no, although willing […]Read More

Galaxies by Jenny Yu

      Artist Bio: Jenny Yu is a 19 year old illustration student at CSULB. She is a contributor to Mochi Mag, and is inspired by people, places, things, and the weird way we all exist.Read More

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The Case of Blaise by Eric Miles Williamson

     Blaise called himself a full-time alchemist and part-time composer, but as far as I knew, he couldn’t figure an A from a G on a banjo, probably couldn’t play a goddamn throat warbler or a kazoo. No one ever heard him play a note, and no one ever saw a score he’d written, […]Read More

Flagstaff by Tony R. Rodriguez

I pull into Flagstaff where I-17 merges into South Milton Road, just near Northern Arizona University. I think of my studies at San Francisco State University. I think of my various courses analyzing American Literature. My eyes then spy across the campus of Northern Arizona, and I see a name on one of the university’s […]Read More

San Diego, California 1975 by Candace Eros Diaz

     Thanks so much for the ride, she said throwing her bags on the floor of the orange pickup truck.      No problem, Mateo said accelerating onto the 805 Freeway, where you headed?      Trying to get to San Francisco. How far you going?      Going to Fresno. Gonna visit my […]Read More

December 20th, 2010 by Rafer Roberts

  *For a closer view, go ahead and click on the comic and zoom. About the artist: Rafer Roberts is the man behind the comic book PLASTIC FARM and the comic strip NIGHTMARE THE RAT. His art has been seen in X-O MANOWAR and HARBINGER (Valiant Comics), LITTLE NEMO: DREAM ANOTHER DREAM (Locust Moon Press), HENRY […]Read More

On Escape Never Being that Simple by Phillip Kobylarz

from Dimestore Paperback Memories     Winter is a mystery that can happen in a day. Never has there been a consummation or ceremony that doesn’t in some way symbolically involve snow, ice, frozen clouds of respiring weather. Virgin snow. Fresh-driven snow. Snow that at first falls miraculously, this Wonderful Life-ly, then after days and […]Read More

The Man Who Clicked by Jake Fuchs

    “Do you know how to talk?”      I asked this question because I had just asked him another one twice, different wording, same meaning, and he hadn’t said a single word.      “What are you doing in my driveway?” That was number one. Silence.      So then, “Look, buddy. Just […]Read More

East Bay Punk Show Trading Cards by Alex Herrington

*For a closer view, go ahead and click on the comic and zoom. About the artist: Alex Herrington is the Art Director for The East Bay Review.Read More

A Dead Man's Name by Jesse Steele

  Act 1: And All That Came FirstThere was the war and mom and 21 gunsMom collects a flag and I got a dead man’s nameThose were the first things.Then there was the cigarette and the other cigarette and the borrowed knifeThe book and the good book, and the preacher with the soft voiceSure, that […]Read More

So John Spits by Mark Rapacz

           He’s running now. He’s off like a gazelle. Or, not quite like a gazelle. There was a time in his life when he ran gazelle-like. Or, had moments where he could achieve a gazelle-like bound, but now with his age, his job, his wife demanding children, his competitive years decidedly […]Read More

Honeymoon by John Kinhart

From Sorry Comics *For a closer view, go ahead and click on the comic and zoom. About the artist: John Kinhart is an artist and film director who studied at the Maryland Institute College of Art, where he received his Bachelor’s Degree in Fine Art in 2001. Kinhart is best known for his online autobiographical comic […]Read More