After Dinner Conversation gratefully acknowledges the support of the following individuals and organizations. Anonymous, Marie Anderson, Ria Bruns, Brett Clark, Jarvis Coffin, Rebecca Dueben, Tina Forsee, Deb Gain-Braley, David Gibson, Ron Koch, Sand

Content Disclosure: Mild Language Ellie and Joe sat at the kitchen table, examining their home inspection report. They had spent five hundred dollars to learn that their 1950s starter home was filled with asbestos in the siding, black mold in the bas

Dustin Grinnell is the Boston-based author of The Healing Book (Finishing Line Press), The Empathy Academy (Atmosphere Press), and Lost & Found (Peter Lang). He’s also the host of the podcast, Curiously. He can be found on Instagram @dustin.grinnell,

This magazine publishes fictional stories that explore ethical and philosophical questions in an informal manner. The purpose of these stories is to generate thoughtful discussion in an open and easily accessible manner. Names, characters, businesses

Content Disclosure: Mild Language My Great-Uncle Jed (later the reporters would favor his full name, Jedediah Ezekiel Andersen) did not go to war a second time until he was in his eighties. Nor did he distinguish himself locally before that. Instead,

Content Disclosure: Mild Violence, Suicidal Themes The door opened, near-silent from the fresh coat of WD-40 applied by Randy. He peered through the small crack, gloved hands already slipping the lockpicking kit into one of the many pockets covering

If you enjoyed reading these stories, please consider doing an online review. It’s only a few seconds of your time, but it is very important in continuing the series. Good reviews mean higher rankings. Higher rankings mean more sales and a greater ab

Content Disclosure: Sexual Innuendo The garage light flips on like a flashbulb, freezing me in a mug shot. “Del, you out here?” my wife says sleepily as she steps down the cement riser. She looks at me standing before the window; then her attention i

Content Disclosure: None They had come to her apartment to draw the blood. Two months ago. A nurse and some other guy. A needle prick to the baby’s heel, half a teaspoon of blood collected, a mournful sobbing for two minutes. Dr. Schnieder had set it

Content Disclosure: None In a conference room on the bottom floor of the Fairmont Copley Plaza in Boston, “A Beautiful Day” by U2 blared through massive speakers on either side of a stage. The audience bobbed and rocked their heads to the music. They

These stories have caused me to reflect on aging. For most of my life, I’ve felt twenty-five years old and wondered who put this aging body around my unchanged mind. Turning fifty feels different, though. For the first time, things are happening that

Content Disclosure: Mild language, Death or Bereavement Rachel’s last semester at the University of Michigan would have been easy if not for the news that reached her six weeks before her final exams. It wasn’t a phone call—the phone lines were still

This magazine publishes fictional stories that explore ethical and philosophical questions in an informal manner. The purpose of these stories is to generate thoughtful discussion in an open and easily accessible manner. Names, characters, businesses

After Dinner Conversation gratefully acknowledges the support of the following individuals and organizations. Anonymous, Marie Anderson, Ria Bruns, Brett Clark, Jarvis Coffin, Rebecca Dueben, Tina Forsee, Deb Gain-Braley, David Gibson, Ron Koch, Sand

Content Disclosure: Existential Themes “We want to rename the building ‘The Ethereon Flux Parallel Worlds Center,’” the woman said. Lathar stepped toward her, having just taken the elevator up to the thirty-third floor. Slowly, her face came into foc

We are continually evolving, and this issue is no exception. We have added a “Special Thanks” section at the end of the magazine for financial supporters. Long story short, literary magazines have three funding legs: paid subscriptions, arts grants,

Content Disclosure: Horror Elements My car protested this morning in the dark of January at my apartment. I couldn’t blame it. With bone-chilling, midthirties cold, and rain coming down in buckets, it pelted automobile exteriors and skin with icy pin

Content Disclosure: Intense Fight Scenes; Mild Language; Death or Bereavement Remember David Hackman? That’s how we like to start: Remember that crazy son of a bitch? The question is rhetorical for those of us who went to Stoneybrook Elementary. Of c

If you enjoyed reading these stories, please consider doing an online review. It’s only a few seconds of your time, but it is very important in continuing the series. Good reviews mean higher rankings. Higher rankings mean more sales and a greater ab

Content Disclosure: None I sat beside the bar, rubbing my glass across polished mahogany and watching the trails of moisture it left behind. It must have cost them a fortune to ship real wood way out to the Rim. It didn’t look synthetic. I looked ove

Julia Meinwald is a writer of fiction and musical theatre and a gracious loser at a wide variety of board games She has stories published or forthcoming in Bayou Magazine, Vol 1. Brooklyn, West Trade Review, VIBE, and The Iowa Review, among others. H

Content Disclosure: Mild Violence Winston must have been ten or eleven when John Smith, his father, told him, “You should read Orwell’s 1984. The protagonist has the same name as you.” Winston knew that he owed his name not to that Winston but to Chu

Content Disclosure: Sexual Situations It’s 7:12 p.m., and Simone has this guy in the palm of her proverbial hand. Technically speaking, it’s not her hand. The guy is on a date with Alexis, one of Simone’s most loyal clients at Connect2. Simone is cli

Content Disclosure: Terminal Illness Lorraine finally calls after three hours at the animal hospital. “The X-ray doesn’t show the color of the plastic.” “It was the frisbee. I’m telling you.” Our son, eight years old, is pantomiming a ball. “Max thin

After Dinner Conversation gratefully acknowledges the support of the following individuals and organizations. Anonymous, Marie Anderson, Ria Bruns, Brett Clark, Jarvis Coffin, Rebecca Dueben, Tina Forsee, Deb Gain-Braley, David Gibson, Ron Koch, Sand

Exhaustion flooded my body, leaving a dull ache pulsating just behind my eyes. With my right thumb and index finger, I squeezed the bridge of my nose, exhaling deeply, trying to soothe the pain. This tactic worked temporarily, at least until the bus

If you enjoyed reading these stories, please consider doing an online review. It’s only a few seconds of your time, but it is very important in continuing the series. Good reviews mean higher rankings. Higher rankings mean more sales and a greater ab

When her son walked into their townhouse, Zach’s darkb-rown curls shielded his eyes. It wasn’t the first time Stephanie thought the deflection looked intentional, but she hadn’t yet found evidence that her son’s aloofness hid anything significant. Sh

I unwrap my grandmother’s tinkling candle carousel without incident. We’ve used the same bubble wrap for years, and I’m not sure what good the airless plastic does to protect it, but anyway, the metal is tarnishing. Next, I arrange the poinsettias my

A plate of meat loaf and mashed potatoes balanced on her knees, Lorene watched a National Geographic documentary about a fifty-something woman living utterly alone on the tundra north of the Arctic circle, her home a compound of metal storage contain