Fiction

My last partner threw me away after my legs wouldn’t open for him. He didn’t explicitly say that of course; he said something about a lack of connection.

Read the short story, The Prisoner: Free at Last, by Phil McNichol: “Quite often I fell to my knees and beat my fists against that block.”

Short story by Jeremy Luke Hill: “He was backing away, his hands held out in front of him to ward off whatever it was that was happening before his eyes…”