Madeline

By Nicole Mancha I shift in my chair for the fifth time in twice as many minutes, attempting to relieve the discomfort of the stiff metal backing against my spine. Dr. Maryanne Warner sits across from me, scribbling furiously. It’s exhausting to watch, so I cannot even imagine how it must be for her. SheContinue reading “Madeline”

Bag of Soap

By Dick Johnson I was in the county jail. I won’t say which one. But, I was locked up in a cell block with 6 other guys. We were all awaiting trial. The cell block was made up of 2 cells with bunks, connected by a day room, with a table. The jail was overcrowdedContinue reading “Bag of Soap”

Racqueteering

By John Mahoney Therese Masters cursed, abandoning a fifth attempt to call Sally, then tossed her smartphone into her black Nike-brand gym bag. “Just keep leaving me hanging,” she grumbled, squatting to zip the bag, before slinging it over a shoulder and using her other hand to grab her rented racquet from the polished floorContinue reading “Racqueteering”

Hit 50

by Chris Bunton I was locked up in Menard prison, at the medium security joint on the hill; serving time for stabbing a guy in a bar fight, when I got a letter from my cousin in Chicago.The letter read:  “Hey cuz, How are you?  Things are going good up here. Just working and stayingContinue reading “Hit 50”

Drunk Tank

By Dick Johnson Carl awoke. His head hurt and the light was bright. His memory flooded back to him, and he realized where he was. He was in his underwear, and lying on a concrete bunk in a room with almost zero features. There were fluorescent lights in mesh glass above, grey rubber walls, aContinue reading “Drunk Tank”

The Wrong Name

By Marco Etheridge The woman saw her face reflected in a thick pane of security glass smudged with the ghostly imprints of forgotten kisses. Her reflection was serious, nervous, pretty: Margaret Kayner, a young graduate student waiting to meet a monster.Beyond the glass barrier was a worn counter bare of anything except a dirty phone.Continue reading “The Wrong Name”

Octavia

By Pablo Agrio We arrived late afternoon, after stops at several different penitentiaries in the immediate area. CDC bus rides in handcuffs and leg chains were always a nightmare. There was still the matter of processing but at least I could use the restroom without having to deal with all the restraints. It is theContinue reading “Octavia”