1.
Here her body was dying. Here her body was giving birth. Blood appeared in pools next to her and her father could not look at it. The blood would not stop. Read story and editor comments…
Filed under: Uncategorized | Leave a Comment
Ruth Crater didn’t call into work sick the day after her father died. She slipped on heels and a miniskirt and ambled through the rain to her office, which was high in a tower of glass and light—and miles away from the arid heartland where she was raised. Read story and editor comments…
Filed under: Uncategorized | 6 Comments
“Dakota” by William Meffert
Ethan lay in the hotel bed, covers thrown back despite the cold Dakota air streaming through the window. He stared at the dark ceiling. I just don’t know how it could have happened, he thought. He walked to the window, stumbling over hunting gear strewn about after returning from the pheasant hunt in darkness. His gun fell to the floor, waking Martin in the other bed. Read story and editor comments…
Filed under: Uncategorized | 1 Comment
We fill up space as if it were a pie shell, with things whose opacity further obstructs our ability to see what is already there. (15)
Gretel Ehrlich, The Solace of Open Spaces
I.
By two o’clock on a February afternoon, the sediment of the day sits on every surface in the house—coloring books on the kitchen table, plates and cups on the countertops, mail and papers half-sorted on the dining room table.
I have been in want of words for months now.
Read story and editor comments…
Filed under: Uncategorized | Leave a Comment
On the first day of Charlie Stokes’ retirement he ate oatmeal at the Formica table he and his wife, Anna, bought the year they were married. The Stokes’ were a happy couple, according to anyone who measured happiness by shelf life. They had been married forty-five years. Read story and editor/author comments…
Filed under: Uncategorized | 2 Comments
“Seeing” by Maureen Connolly
The night before she found out she was going blind, Ana saw a Quentin Tarentino film. Read story and editor comments…
Filed under: Uncategorized | 1 Comment
The 10,000 Tons of Black Ink editorial team is pleased to announce their nominations for this year’s Pushcart Prize:
“A Shortage of Butterscotch at a Time When Butterscotch is Sorely Needed,” by Chris Insana
“The Temporary Assistant Postmaster,” by Alan Bray
“Stephen Dreams of Visiting Heaven,” by Christine Kindberg
“As You Lie Dying,” by Rosie Hopegood
All the best to our nominees!
Filed under: Uncategorized | Leave a Comment
Exhibit A
TH: We still have some time left. Is there anything that you’d like to talk about?
DW: We only have two minutes. Last time we went over, you charged me for another hour.
TH: Doctor, don’t worry about money and time limits. I’m here for you. This is to help you. Now, tell me, is there anything that’s been bothering you? What about your dream journal? Is that working?
Read story and editor comments…
Filed under: Uncategorized | 1 Comment
“Blackwood” by Sam Grieve
The kid was at the intersection again, big-eyed and snotty-nosed. No shoes. Someone had given him a charity jersey, in grandmotherly powder blue, and he wore this hanging low down his shorts. Jonah rolled up his window as he decelerated, and fixed his gaze ahead, but alas, the kid spotted him and wove with determination through the traffic to Jonah’s side. Read story and editor comments…
Filed under: Uncategorized | 4 Comments
Every morning he empties the lobby wastebasket, and sets it down making a hollow clatter ring, brittle. In fall and winter, whenever there’s been frost overnight, he strews salt on the front steps as a farmer scatters seed. Read story and editor comments…
Filed under: Uncategorized | 3 Comments
10,000 Tons of Black Ink 