Constance By Jeremiah Dennehy (2017) LRR, July 9, 2017July 4, 2017 The Jennie Hackman Memorial Prize for Fiction, Third Place (2017) I don’t take the school bus, I don’t drive, and because mom doesn’t get home from work until four most of the time, I don’t ask her for a ride. But if I take the 509 toward Whitney Avenue at… Continue Reading
Erythrophobia By Jameson Croteau (2017) LRR, July 8, 2017July 4, 2017 From out in the outfield dirt, the crack of the bat was the only indicator a ball was rising up before dive bombing, back through the crepuscular sky. Jimmy turned and chased the echo of the sound. Go foul… Go foul… The ball, draped in a cloak of clouds, seemed… Continue Reading
Crumbling Walls By Kristina Reardon (2017) LRR, July 6, 2017July 4, 2017 Long River Graduate Writing Award, Winner (2017) “Petra, she say there be bones,” my grandmother told me, pointing beyond me to the old castle on top of the hill. The frame of the old, Slavic structure was about as beautiful as a decaying tooth with jagged corners. A revolting brownness… Continue Reading
Angus By Sten Spinella (2017) LRR, July 5, 2017July 4, 2017 The Jennie Hackman Memorial Prize for Fiction, Second Place (2017) The girl I was seeing had this dog, a real fluffy fucker, whose name was Angus. It was her boyfriend’s dog. She was taking care of Angus because his owner was studying abroad in New Zealand for the semester. I… Continue Reading
The Road to Hell By August Jones (2017) LRR, June 30, 2017June 24, 2017 When I was seven, we made poetry books in school. I wrote two poems about my childhood dog, one about my grandpa, and one about 9/11. The rest were gibberish. On the cover, I drew broken hearts, storm clouds, a syringe, and my mom crying in the den. My dog… Continue Reading
Lights in the Night By Stephanie Mei Koo (2015) LRR, June 16, 2015June 16, 2017 Jennie Hackman Memorial Award for Short Fiction, Second Place (2015) Her bedroom lights haven’t been off for twenty-four years. Oh, it is silly, isn’t it — to be scared of the dark? Yet here she is, shivering in her nightgown, far too tired to go to sleep. She likes to… Continue Reading
Floating By Loriann Dozier (2015) LRR, June 16, 2015June 16, 2017 Jennie Hackman Memorial Award for Short Fiction Winner, 2015 The woman tells her it will all be alright. She smiles when she says it, so the infant believes her, because the woman doesn’t smile often. The lines that the sudden curvature of her mouth create are strange, alien to the… Continue Reading