Sundog at My Window on a Midwestern Winter’s Afternoon

By Tommy Dean

“Look, I know I shouldn’t be looking, but the city heat has me out on the streets, the dusty air pushed between buildings by gliding cars, windows open, soft music orchestrating their growling engines down the road, bumper to bumper, red lights sending messages to the twinkling skies, exhorting their ownership over the land.”

By Amy Marques

“The last time she lied was a minute ago. She hasn’t told the truth in years. Her tongue wraps itself around assurances of happiness with no repentances, she is independent, able, fine, fine, fine.”