1924 by Dan Beams

            

              

                
 
 
                
The first week of July saw
                  temperatures soar to a hundred sizzling degrees and stubbornly
                  remain there for six consecutive days. Mamma suggested my father's
                  strange behavior could be attributed to the stifling heat. As
                  a young boy who loved his mother intensely, I believed her. Rationalizing
                  things seemed to bring about serenity for her, and even as a
                  young pup I knew how valuable peace of mind could be.
 
              
            

            
 

            
Manic
            is the Dark Night: Flashlight
            Fiction by Michael Lee Johnson

            

              

                
 
 
                
I found myself somewhere in
                  the middle of my life, around the mid-to-late twenties. Until
                  then, I was busy living my life day by day and sure thinking
                  of myself as sane. You know the brief story lines: reach out
                  and touch people, get involved, don't close yourself in, dance
                  till dawn or till your cigarettes run out or your shoes wear
                  holes in leather bottoms.
 
              
            

            
 

            
Searching
            for Bo Belinsky by Bob Church

            

              

                
 
 
                
If you'll listen closely when
                  you watch a movie that shows people riding in boxcars, you'll
                  probably hear any conversation syncopated with rhythmic thumps
                  meant to depict the wheels crossing rail connectors. Truth of
                  the matter is, those sounds really exist in a form approximating
                  the Hollywood sound engineers' efforts-...
 
              
            

            
 

            
A Stranger
            Beckons by Joseph Grant

            

              

                
 
 
                
In the evenings they would
                  go out to La Trattoria or some other expensive restaurant or
                  bistro. They would then attend a performance of one of the top
                  plays and then would casually walk Broadway arm-in-arm and talk
                  about what they liked best about the play.
 
              
            

            
 

            
The
            Skim Box by Michael A. Kechula

            

              

                
 
 
                

                  
"Quick! I need change for the phone.
                  There's a woman lying on the pavement. She may be dead."

                  
The fry cook flashed a frosty, get-lost
                  look at Mike, then resumed his late night conversation with a
                  customer.
                
              
            

            
 

            
Whim
            of Iron by Phil Richardson

            

              

                
 
 
                
There were times during the
                  first few years of my marriage to Melissa when I thought I was
                  controlling things, but in the end she always outmaneuvered me.
                  This was brought home to me once more last summer when Melissa
                  announced she was quitting her teaching job. My salary as a college
                  professor wasn't all that great, so I decided to discuss the
                  decision with her-I have never won this type of discussion, but
                  I keep trying.
 
              
            

            
 

            
Send your short stories to: ShirleyAllard@wordcatalystmagazine.com.