CafeLitMagazine

  They’d spend all-day each Saturday at Murphy’s, sitting on the same barstools at the far end, under the red, white, and blue glow of the P...

  On a crisp and sunny October afternoon, the Carpenters stood by a freshly dug grave. Emily Jane Carpenter rested in the simple wood casket...

Just north of the border, the deer a hunter shot laid dead on a fresh grave. Under a cross made of two sticks tied together with jute rope, ...

  Nona grew morose the day she turned 93. She stopped eating and perseverated about a dinner she shared with a man named Pietro on her 19 th...