By Tania Casselle

~Editor's Prize Winner~

Halva in the Glove Box

“ ‘I walked clean across Delaware in one day,’ said the Cactus Man, and one glance at his feet told her he spoke the truth. As for her, last Thursday night she'd left her underwear behind in Biloxi.”

By Allen Cody

The Tree

“The pine box was too small, so they chopped a hole an' me feet waggled outta one end. Then they lowered me inta the ground near grandaddy. Me wife Judy cried. Me brother Norton cried. Maw an' paw, they cried too.”

By Pamela DiFrancesco

The Story About the Lake

“There is a white moon and a partially frozen lake, and ripples and reflections where the water still moves. That is what you need to know, all you need to know. There is wind. There are scarves and socks and cigarettes.”

By Jerry Erwin

~Editor's Prize Winner~

On the Pier of the Circus of My Mind (With Horses)

“A beautiful black horse with a long, wild mane, came barreling down the length of the pier, loudly and violently rattling the wooden boards in its wake . . .”

By Michael Fontana

At the Top of the World

“I met her years ago when I was trapped on a raft woven of bamboo, asea amid glacial outcroppings, greenhouse gases seething off the water and chopping the ice, the Inuits left holding their spears . . .”

By Rosalie Morales Kearns

Wildwood

“At first he sees nothing different about the mechanical fortune teller. She has always been there, on a narrow pier off the boardwalk. Her booth looks the same as ever, the red and black paint corroded long ago . . .”

By Matt Maxwell

A Paean to Our Parents

“The cell phone slips from Rickard's hand and plunges into his French onion soup, its splash spackling crusty ecru on the white tablecloth, on the white linen covering an erection, on his silk Dolce shirt.”

By Gretchen Van Lente

Stone Tears, Crying Statue

“If she focused hard enough, felt longing deep enough, she could make the statue of Mary cry blood tears, and then everyone would know she was a powerful saint not to be ridiculed or told she looked chubby.”

By Donna D. Vitucci

Tasting the Apple

“The tree took root in our dreams, its branches umbrella-ed the giddiness we felt in boys chasing us across the kickball field, our breathlessness, our slowdown, the way we let ourselves be caught.”

By Cory B. Welch

Bill's Pasture

“They were called the 'blanks,' at least around Bill's part of the country, because that was just the best name that anybody could come up for them in the flurry of activity during the days around their discovery. They had miraculously appeared . . .”