The Estate Sale

by Jessica Noel Arzola-Grissom

The Victorian home held the charm of an enchantress. My favorite part of the estate sales was going through the old books. My lawyer’s interest peaked when I discovered a box of empty journals marked at five dollars. As I fanned through the pages, I read the scrawled words, “Our preacher is the wolf.” Inside the cover of another journal were the names of the town’s missing girls. I scooped up the box and paid the low cost for something that was going to cost me a few years of my normal life.

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Jessica Noel Arzola-Grissom lives in a small Texas town with her husband and son. Her writing has appeared in various print and online publications, including The Image, Logo Sophia, Valiant Scribe, Reedsy, and Latine Lit. When she isn't writing, she enjoys libraries, tea shops, and consuming dark chocolate.

Never Again

by Melissa Yang

He swore he'd never go back to the house on Sycamore Lane, not after what happened in the attic. But when the letter arrived—no return address, just a single line: You forgot something—his curiosity outweighed his fear. The front door creaked open on its own, as if expecting him, and the air inside smelled of dust and regret. On the attic floor, right where he’d left it ten years ago, sat the cracked porcelain doll, smiling wider than he remembered. As he bent to pick it up, the trapdoor slammed shut behind him. From the darkness, a voice whispered, “Never again… until now.”

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Melissa Yang writes stories that teeter on the edge of reality, often exploring eerie intersections of memory, myth, and the mundane. When she’s not writing, she’s likely thrift-shopping for old photographs or drinking too much tea while watching thunderstorms. Her work has appeared in several small journals and forgotten notebooks.

My Speech to the Kindergarten Graduates

by Ted Reeves

When I was asked to speak at the kindergarten graduation, I assumed it was because of my wisdom, charisma, and ability to recite the alphabet with confidence. I stood before a sea of tiny caps and gowns, cleared my throat, and said, “Congratulations, you’ve completed the easiest part of your academic journey—snack time and finger painting.” One child burst into tears, another threw a juice box, and I realized perhaps I’d come on too strong. I tried to recover by telling them that life was like a box of crayons: sometimes you’re the bright red everyone loves, sometimes you’re the broken gray nobody uses. Their teacher gave me a look that said, “Please stop,” but I was on a roll and finished with, “Remember, nap time might end in school, but in adulthood, we just call it burnout.” I was not invited back the next year.

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Ted Reeves is a retired elementary school janitor, part-time balloon animal artist, and full-time philosopher of snack time. When he's not offering questionable life advice to kindergarteners, he enjoys collecting novelty mugs and losing at Scrabble to his cat, Chairman Meow.