Jo-Anne Rosen’s fiction has appeared in over 30 literary journals (among them, The Florida Review, The Summerset Review, The Write Launch, Valparaiso Fiction Review, Big City Lit), and has received a Pushcart nomination. She earned an MA in English Lit from the University of Miami. Presently she is a book designer living in Petaluma, California. Since 2010 she has published Wordrunner eChapbooks, an online hybrid chapbook/journal and co-edited the Sonoma County Literary Update. What They Don’t Know (2015) is her first fiction collection. See joannerosen.us for more information.
Ashes of Old Lovers
That couldn’t be my father on the phone. Forty years had gone by without a single card or message from him, and for all I knew he was dead. No, my elderly neighbor was teasing me.
“Pete dear, I’ve got a client on the other line,” I said.
“Mary Edwina, please listen.”
I listened. Pete could not have known my horrid middle name.
“I’m Edward Keller. I’m your father.”
“Hold on,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Pete dear, I’ve got a client on the other line,” I said.
“Mary Edwina, please listen.”
I listened. Pete could not have known my horrid middle name.
“I’m Edward Keller. I’m your father.”
“Hold on,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
Short Story
September 2023 Issue
Transit Visa to Redemption
Everyone but Helmut was anxious. He sat by himself, as usual, at a small table in a corner of Café Stammtisch, calmly reading a newspaper. Germany Invades Rhineland! The headline took up half a page. He yawned.
Short Story
Issue 52
The Good Samaritan
The five children were waiting for their mother to come out of the Amerikanische Packetfuhrt ticketing office. They sat on a bench in birth order, the two girls first in white pinafores over high-collared navy-blue smocks; the three boys in navy and white sailor suits. Their luggage was stowed under the bench.
Sora had been left in charge of her younger siblings. She leaned forward, gripping the basket on her lap that held their provisions as if it were a life jacket and she, already at sea.
Sora had been left in charge of her younger siblings. She leaned forward, gripping the basket on her lap that held their provisions as if it were a life jacket and she, already at sea.
Long Short Story
Issue 27
Jo-Anne Rosen
Jo-Anne Rosen’s fiction has appeared in over 30 literary journals (among them, The Florida Review, The Summerset Review, The Write Launch, Valparaiso Fiction Review, Big City Lit), and has received a Pushcart nomination. She earned an MA in English Lit from the University of Miami. Presently she is a book designer living in Petaluma, California. Since 2010 she has published Wordrunner eChapbooks, an online hybrid chapbook/journal and co-edited the Sonoma County Literary Update. What They Don’t Know (2015) is her first fiction collection. See joannerosen.us for more information.
Ashes of Old Lovers
That couldn’t be my father on the phone. Forty years had gone by without a single card or message from him, and for all I knew he was dead. No, my elderly neighbor was teasing me.
“Pete dear, I’ve got a client on the other line,” I said.
“Mary Edwina, please listen.”
I listened. Pete could not have known my horrid middle name.
“I’m Edward Keller. I’m your father.”
“Hold on,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Pete dear, I’ve got a client on the other line,” I said.
“Mary Edwina, please listen.”
I listened. Pete could not have known my horrid middle name.
“I’m Edward Keller. I’m your father.”
“Hold on,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
Short Story
September 2023 Issue
Transit Visa to Redemption
Everyone but Helmut was anxious. He sat by himself, as usual, at a small table in a corner of Café Stammtisch, calmly reading a newspaper. Germany Invades Rhineland! The headline took up half a page. He yawned.
Short Story
Issue 52
The Good Samaritan
The five children were waiting for their mother to come out of the Amerikanische Packetfuhrt ticketing office. They sat on a bench in birth order, the two girls first in white pinafores over high-collared navy-blue smocks; the three boys in navy and white sailor suits. Their luggage was stowed under the bench.
Sora had been left in charge of her younger siblings. She leaned forward, gripping the basket on her lap that held their provisions as if it were a life jacket and she, already at sea.
Sora had been left in charge of her younger siblings. She leaned forward, gripping the basket on her lap that held their provisions as if it were a life jacket and she, already at sea.
Long Short Story
Issue 27