Story Excerpts
by David Hagerty
“Ice, ice, ice,” people shouted at the mayor of New York each time he appeared in public. The price had doubled over a year’s time, and voters were angry. They relied on ice to keep their food fresh in summer and to cool their fevers in winter. And beer. The ice kept the beer chilled and flavorful even when temperatures outside rose. In a generation, New Yorkers had come to expect a steady flow of ice from the rivers and lakes upstate. READ MORE
by Will Ferguson
In murmuring voices, they discuss my murder. And every time they do, Maria comes closer and closer to capitulating. “I can’t,” she whispers. I can hear the swallowed sob in her voice. I can’t. “You must,” they whisper back. You must. READ MORE