BAP Quarterly

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The Most Important Thing

by: Becky Tuch

            By the time he got back to his neighborhood, the sweat on Felix’s back and neck had cooled. He sat in the dim corner of Snooky’s pub and sipped from his glass of ice water, crunching the ice between his molars and looking at his open palms.
            Yesterday he had gone to work and thought it all through, and still couldn’t come up with a logical plan. The longer he sat in his office and tried to think, scanning his memories for some cause, some explanation, the more he found only madness. He even thought of calling his ex-wife, shouting into the phone, What the hell do you know about this case? Why are you setting me up, Magda? But he’d checked himself, called his sponsor instead. more


End of the Line

by: Marise Morse

            She steps onto the bus, pays her fare and, a little bewildered, sits down in one of the forward seats.  An imperceptible sigh escapes her.  The conductor’s words, ‘You’ll be wanting the last stop,’ continue to ring inside her head.  Yes, the last stop.  That should be easy enough.  There is no chance of missing it.  No fretting to know where she is, whether she’ll get off in time or miss the stop altogether.  She wants the last stop.  The strain of the noisy engine sounds loudly within her ears. more

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