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Unreliable-Fiction by Kenneth James Crist
Dealing with Mr. Blue-Fiction by Michael Lemieux
iFriend-Fiction by Jeff Dosser
Till Human Voices Wake Us-Fiction by John Post
Tape-Fiction by Will Bernardara Jr.
Dead Drunk in Glasgow-Fiction by j brooke
The Spot-Fiction by Rick McQuiston
Wait Until the Ice Melts-Fiction by Hillary Lyon
Tattooed Love Boys-Fiction by Greg Smith
The Losers-Fiction by John Short
Anger Serves a Greater Purpose-Fiction by Heather Santo
Odium Pentothal-Fiction by Steven M. Lerner
Finally Adopted-Flash Fiction by Tom Fillion
Boxing Day-Flash Fiction by K.J.Hannah Greenberg
Godmother-Flash Fiction by Cindy Rosmus
First Communion-Poem by Tom Fillion
Almost Gone-Poem by Henry Bladon
Foa Da Price of One-Poem by Joe Balaz
a few haunting memories-Poem by J. J. Campbell
Pressure Lines-Poem by Meg Baird
Work it out-Poem by Meg Baird
lily pads open-Poem by ayaz daryl nielsen
a melodious voice from the reeds-Poem by ayaz daryl nielsen
a cobblestone trail-Poem by ayaz daryl nielsen
A Beautiful Madness on Mallory Square-Poem by Dr. Mel Waldman
A Beautiful Death on Mallory Square-Poem by Dr. Mel Waldman
A Luminous Metamorphosis on Mallory Square-Poem by Dr. Mel Waldman
Cartoons by Cartwright
Hail, Tiger!
Angel of Manslaughter
The Gazing Ball
Strange Gardens
Gutter Balls
Calpurnia's Window
No Place Like Home
Dark Tales from Gent's Pens

Art by KJ Hannah Greenberg 2019

Boxing Day


by KJ Hannah Greenberg



Oison dripped snow. He looked back and forth from the puddle under one of his hands to the puddle forming under the other.


Maebh grimaced. His hands ought to be full of cash, not melting snow.


“I was stiffed,” Oison justified.


Maebh threw their only table lamp at him. She was a poor pitch. The lamp arched past Oison’s head and crumpled on the floor.


He shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to rely on the overhead, now. Anyway, Lovie, I bought you these. Fought off the crowds at the Neasa’s Chocolate Emporium to procure them for you.” He proffered a slightly crushed box of candy.


Maebh next attempted to assault her beloved with a framed picture of the two of them standing at the seashore. Ordinarily, that memento stood on their reading table atop of a doily.


Oison was slow to duck. The photo hit him on the edge of his forehead. A slow bleed started.


“Tosh and assorted relative nonsense,” his partner said. Her words slowly bubbled to her lips, like a poison nearing the completion of its fermentation process.


Oison’s head slumped toward his stomach. He slid to sit on their threadbare sofa. It was a two-seater and he had long ago promised Maebh a three.


One eye nearly swollen shut, he watched his woman pick up the windowsill pot containing the small cacti that she constantly overwatered. That prickly vegetable was yellow where it should have been green and brown where yellow would not have been a problem.


Maebh winged the pot at her much-loved man. She missed, catching a knickknack from their honeymoon.


Oison shook his head. They were averaging three lost figurines per month.

“Hurts ya to lose it.” suggested Oison’s mate.



Maebh contemplated the decorative plate that she had removed from the wall. It was a souvenir of the queen’s Diamond Jubilee. They might be ex-pats, but they still revered certain things. “Now you’re telling the truth. So while you’re at it, where’s the money?”


“I drank it away at Mac Lochlainns.”


Maebh made herself comfortable on the sofa and then wiggled over to Oison’s lap. “Lying doesn’t suit you. I guess you miss home, too.” Although she still clutched the plate in her left hand, with her right hand, she rubbed her dear one’s face, enjoying the contact her fingers made with his beard, his nose, and his eyelids.


She carefully traced the surface of his forehead box, too. “Your green light’s so sexy.”


“As sexy as Doni O’Shea’s?”


“Ain’t no such man in my life.”


Sighing and then sighing once more, Oison swiftly grabbed the plate from his girl. In that single gesture he likewise smashed it over her head.


She became limp. Her eyes shuttered.


Oison tsk-tsked as he fingered her face and the bump on her brow. “Stupid broad! Your light’s red!”



KJ Hannah Greenberg captures the world in words and images. Her latest photography portfolio is 20/20: KJ Hannah Greenberg Eye on Israel. Her most recent poetry collection is Mothers Ought to Utter Only Niceties (Unbound CONTENT, 2017). Her most recent fiction collection is the omnibus, Concatenation (Bards & Sages Publishing, 2018).

Recently, Hannah’s seventh short story collection was published by Bards and Sages Publishing.

The publisher writes: "Bards and Sages Publishing is pleased to bring readers Walnut Street, our seventh short story collection by KJ Hannah Greenberg. Greenberg’s flair for the peculiar and eclectic shines through in this collection of over fifty flash and short fiction works featuring anthropomorphic starship pilots, angsty authors, strange neighbors, and more."

Walnut Street is available on Amazon:


Volumes One through Five of the KJ Hannah Greenberg Short Story Collection at 50% off the list in an exclusive bundle only at 


In Association with Black Petals & Fossil Publications 2019