Nathan Alling Long
Asleep

Nathan Alling Long - Asleep

Fiction
Nathan Alling Long lives in Philadelphia and teaches creative writing and literature at Stockton University. His work appears in over… Read more »
Fredric Sinclair
Holy Water

Fredric Sinclair - Holy Water

Fiction
Fredric Sinclair grew up in Connecticut and currently lives in Brooklyn, NY. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in… Read more »
Caitlin Mullen
Ice Fishing

Caitlin Mullen - Ice Fishing

Fiction
Caitlin Mullen is a first year student in the Stony Brook Southampton MFA program. She received an MA in English… Read more »
Christopher Green
We Are V

Christopher Green - We Are V

Fiction
Christopher Green currently lives in Brooklyn, where he also hosts a monthly fiction reading series, The Prose Bowl, and its… Read more »

Ice Fishing

Caitlin Mullen

Declan’s hands shake as he lifts Meghan’s green plastic tackle box and stacks it on top of his own. It rattles with hooks, bucktail jigs made of deer hair that expand into white puffs in the water, the steel leaders, the bright metal jigs that shimmer their way down to the bottom of the lake, and splitshot sinkers that she sometimes holds in her mouth, even though at eleven she is too old for this, to taste the cool tang of the metal on her tongue. He senses her in the doorway, watching.

“You can take it with you,” he says, nodding to the tackle box. “There’s that little pond at back of your grandmother’s development.”

“I think I remember,” she says. Neither of them mentions the way the brown water hummed with dragonflies, the green cigars of goose shit everywhere they stepped. She tilts her head up to him. Milk white skin like her mother’s, winter-pale freckles that will brighten to the color of cinnamon in the sun. He points to the end of her braid, smiles at a fleck of blue paint in her red hair.

She gets that from you, Denise had said, when Meghan… Read more »