A Short Story “She’s going to die soon,” said Maarten. “You can see it in the graph — an hour or two, maybe less.” Dr. Maarten van der Wal was staring at his laptop in his second-floor office in Darmstadt, Germany. Next to him was his colleague, Emma Davis, an…

A Short Story — The poplars tower over the Morning Choice trail in Patapsco State Park, part of a ribbon of green space that cuts through the dense suburbs south of Baltimore. Hiking along the trail, Carl Thompson watches the forest canopy as he passes underneath. He is reminded of the opening titles of…

A Short Story — My phone is dead. I don’t want to be next. I hear the crunch of twigs, the bear’s low growl, and the sound of claws tearing apart my pack. The pack with my charger battery in it. I’m guessing it’s about 2 AM, maybe 40 degrees, under a full Moon…

A Short Story “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” “Play an April Fool’s Joke.” “Why not?” “Because your jokes are mean and cruel.” “And funny. Pass me the sugar.” “Funny for you. And then I have to pretend it’s funny so I don’t look like I can’t take a joke.” “You can’t take…

Yes, I am the “Old Man Yells at Cloud,” especiallywith technology. From my day job as a software developer to my night job as family tech support, whatever synapses left firing by evening are on the verge of short circuiting. …

A Short Story — Our tents are in ribbons, like they were shredded by a bear. But it wasn’t a bear. “It was a couple of the guys from over the hill,” says John. “I was coming up the trail, they saw me and ran. Nothing I could do.” Yeah, those are our neighbors…

A Short Story — Repetition. It will cost the Governor his life. Each Thursday evening he slips through the basement exit of his mansion and goes to her apartment. In casual dress, he’s not a memorable man, no JFK. …

A Short Story — “That shit is going to kill you.” “That’s kind of the point. And quit your swearing.” I watch as my dad reaches over for the bottle and pours himself a drink. An image of Niagara Falls is painted on the shot glass, one of an array he collected on trips…

You Don’t See Me — It’s cold. Thirty-five degrees says the display on M&T Bank display across the street. I’ve been stepping through the slush here since 6:30 this morning to try to get most out of rush hour. I have my two tools I need for today: my squeegee and my spray bottle. Yeah…