Fall 2024 Issue 27
Marco Etheridge-Fiction
The earth beneath our boots became a slippery soup of water and blood. Bodies stacked up four and five deep. We took to throwing corpses over the timberworks to make room for the fighting. Some of them bodies took so many musket balls they fell apart in your hands when you tried to heave them over.
Featured
Michael Heppner - Fiction
It’s the same with flag football. True fact: no one wants to be there. Not the players, not the coaches, not the refs—not even the women who sell mouth guards and water bottles at the games. The only people who believe in the whole painful exercise are the mothers in the stands, the women who want their sons to play football (because there’s some prestige in that) but don’t want them to get hurt. And the more they get into it, the more they cheer and cry out things like “Way to pull that flag, Taylor!” the more the boys on the field want to disappear.
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