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ISSN 1545-2824

		A Box of Jesus      by Rita Kasperek
		After he had bandaged up his mother's self-inflicted wrist gashes and after Washington State Hospital declared her legally blind and after the doctor had admitted her to the psychiatric ward, after he had pawned their belongings and spent most of the resulting earnings on smack and Chivas Regal and a funny, one-legged prostitute named Aretha, Diego started his life as a musician.. . .
		Traffic    by Terry Thomas
		"You'd better call in and get someone else to drive this thing off the motorway. You're not driving it anywhere."      "Get out," Fegan said. "Get out of my cab."      "Don't be stupid."      "Get out or I'll take you with me."      The cop climbed down and looked back up at him from the road. "You're mad," he said. " How far do you think you'll get?" . . .
		Que Cinco    by Kristin S. vanNamen
		I say, mi nombre es cinco, que cinco is the bed that I sleep in. I say this when el chico at the window ask me my name. El chico, he come with los chicos malos de la cuidad. Los chicos come at night. Peer in through las ventanas a las chicas locas locked away. El chico, he like me best of all. He say, el cinco es el número, no es un nombre. He say, stupid girl. He call me chica loca número cinco . . .
		Armadillo Armageddon    by Tom Schwider
		The train would have been safer, no road kills with a train. There must have been a crushed armadillo every forty miles. Each time we passed one, sweat gathered on my palms. I wiped my hands on my jeans and they were stained brown as if the blood was still there from last night. I know I put on a fresh pair that morning. I looked in horror at my hands to see them tinged with blood—was I suffering an Armadillo Stigmata, or just seeing things? I hid my hands from my father's sight. . .
		There's a Man After Me    by Janice J. Heiss
		Dizzy, I jockeyed for space away from the railing on the narrow balcony. That's when I saw the features on his face move around like traffic, the eyes no longer level, the mouth off to the side. Had Dennis the Menace—one of his nicknames—done something to the grass? I worried, suddenly feeling unsafe with him out on the balcony . . .
		Notes on contributors

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