Jake’s Shoes
A layer of early morning fog hung a few feet above the ground as Jake lifted the latch on the gate and swung it open. As the small flock of sheep filed out of t...
Author: Steve Carr
When We Danced All Night
It was mid-afternoon when Beatriz Miranda to all present, which included her four grandchildren and her husband Alessio, announced that dinner would be a little...
Note from the Editor, Issue 30
Welcome to the 30th issue of Bull & Cross! This will be the last issue for some time, but I’m happy to wrap up with three great stories. First up, we ...
Note from the Editor, Issue 29
Well, it’s August, and I’m as far away from home as I can be without leaving the peninsula. The temperature in the northwestern corner of Spain is a...
2 Flash Fictions
BUSTED FENCE In the photograph, it’s Halloween, 1956. I’m sitting on a split rail fence next to my girlfriend. We’re in the second grade. I’m smiling, but her m...
West Indian Rum Chronicles Part One – Mother, Rum and Paul Muad’Dib Atreides
My mother drinks Jamaican over-proof white rum through her toes. It goes down easier that way. Ten toes consume much more than one tiny mouth. Mother’s toes slu...
Hey Hombre, Go Back Where You Belong
After my fiancée said she found someone else and broke off our engagement, I’d been devastated. I grew weary of friends and relatives saying, “Miguel, I’m so so...
Note from the Editor, Issue 28
July in my part of Spain is hot and humid. At night, we have several fans blowing sticky air around the house as we lay on top of the sheets and mentally calcul...
Altarred States
A few days after my wife Celestine died suddenly from encephalitis, I got a phone call that I suspected was some form of condolence. I had not recovered enough ...
Cruel Apocalypse is Cruel
Robert made his preparations; he needn’t wait until four skeletal dudes rode horses down Main Street. As he saw it, the whole vibe was similar to Zombie S...
Note from the Editor, Issue 27
Welcome to the 27th issue of Bull & Cross! This one is arriving a bit behind schedule, but the quality of the stories makes up for the delay. First up, Rich...
At The Bottom of Everything
No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness which creates it. So, to overcome his anxiety, Asan modifies his mindset. An easy enough thing to ...
The Sand Jacker Tape
File Content Abstract: The following document is a Certified Tech-Trued, verbatim transcript of an antique analog audio cassette tape recording found in the rui...
Slow Burning and Sweet
John Hand worked for City Transit twisting wrenches in the bus barns for more than thirty years. He retired, and decided to garden and to grow tobacco, because ...
Note from the Editor, Issue 26
Bull & Cross is now well into its third year of stories and this month, we have three gems. In each, the characters stand out against the backdrop of excell...
Frogs and Fireflies
She feels quivery, detached from everything familiar, even her own kitchen. The tea kettle screams violently, and Helen Sadler, a small-boned woman just a shad...
The Best Thing
Butter turns his head toward me from his bed in the bike trailer and I can tell from the look in his eyes he knows I’m late. I can’t really do anything about th...
The Juggler
A short boy with stubby legs, broad shoulders, and a squashed-up face, Donny Clatterbuck hated team sports—baseball, football, and basketball. He was quick and ...
Note from the Editor, Issue 25
Welcome to the 25th issue of Bull & Cross. I’m very pleased to introduce the three weird stories in this month’s issue, and I expect you’l...
Et in Acadia
It is nine o’clock, the crown jewel of the morning. The diamond sunlight glistens blindingly on the rippling matrix of the bayou. It is a millionth carbon-copy ...
Learning to Fly
I flew north over the parkway, avoiding the rush-hour traffic. The intersection there is a chore, and I’d needed to make some time. Flying would be easiest. No ...
Note from the Editor, Issue 24
Welcome to the 24th issue of Bull & Cross! I am very happy to start this issue off with “Possums” by Seth Cable. I’m not going to say much...
How To Train Your Slime
Harold’s parents were allergic to most pets. Sometimes, he brought them home just to be sure. He made valiant efforts with kittens and puppies, but when he trie...
Note from the Editor, Issue 23
Well, February’s publication date arrived more quickly than I had anticipated, but all the better for you as the stories are fantastic! First up, we have ...
We Are All Strangers
I love the first day of class each year. The oil paint and turpentine aromas become concentrated in August, when they close the building for the summer. I inhal...
Don’t Talk To Trees or, The Real Reason For The Housing Shortage in Brooklyn, New York
On a busy Brooklyn sidewalk stands an oak tree. He taps messages to me in Morse code on the wall outside my bedroom window, pleading for me to let him in. It’s ...
The Man Who Left His Eyes Open
They said an old man left his eyes open in the house years ago and lay there for days before being discovered. Nobody ever lived in it again. We kids found the ...
Note from the Editor, Issue 22
Happy New Year! I’m finally back in Spain, and while I’m still running well behind on my schedule as I try to get back into my daily rhythm, I’...
Conversations
Laurel wasn’t sure why she tapped accept when her mother-in-law’s name came up on her phone. Habit, she supposed. “Did you know they put a micro-chip into your ...
Sober World
I wasn’t going to drink again. I’d had it with the days after, the strange awakenings in strangers’ beds, the lost jobs, lost phones, lost key...
Beach Buddy
No matter how ardently she yearned for a weekend of sun and fun (or fun and sun, she wasn’t so intractable), Betty knew instinctively to keep her hopes lo...
Note from the Editor, Issue 21
Merry Christmas! I’m still traveling the States with my family, and this month, I’m enjoying some time with my parents and siblings. I’m still...
P.S.—An Epistolary Tale
8836 Blvd. E. (Apt. 3K) W.N.Y., N.J.07093 March 24, 2018 OCCUPANT of Apt. 2K 8836 Blvd. E. W. New York, NJ 07093 Dear Neighbor: Just because I HAVEN’T (an...
Pictures From a Magazine
During another wet East Coast holiday she sat in the Sea View public bar drinking wine too early for her own good. Cutting out a new husband from magazines in t...
Anything Will Help
In the downtown core the interns leave by the plus-fifteens, the glass and steel walkways fifteen feet above street level. The traffic below is unnavigable, ful...
Note from the Editor, Issue 20
Well, the holidays are already here! So, again, while I’m nearing the end of our trip in the US, I have even less time than last month, so I must keep thi...
Absolution
The road is long and straight, the land flat as a table. Even in the dark I could drive fast, but I don’t. I know that three miles ahead there’s a turn coming u...
Mathematics for Orphans
“I’m telling you the truth,” Araceli shouted. “Because I’m a bad kid, you don’t believe me, right? But even bad kids don’t always lie.” Miss Ellis shushed Arace...
Note from the Editor, Issue 19
I’m about halfway through a four-month trip around the US, so I have a bit less time than normal for my editorial duties, and this will be a shorter note ...
Stuff of Nightmares
Walter wakes up with Martha shaking him. “Honey, somebody’s pounding on the front door.” Thump thump thump. Walter slips out of bed and pulls his robe on over h...
Patient Zero
He never had a chance with her, but they were too young to realize it. She was Jewish; her father owned a chain of jewelry stores strung from New York to Miami...
Note from the Editor, Issue 18
It is my privilege to introduce three wildly different but excellent new stories in this September issue. I’ll start with “Rabies in August.” ...
Rabies in August
El Fuerte, Mexico, founded in 1564 This story could take place anywhere and anytime. But it doesn’t. In the first month of the year nothing really goes on. Oh,...