Ilh-eobeolin

I lose my husband in the heart of the Gwangjang Market in South Korea. A woman stops me outside of a mattress marketplace and points at her eyes, then at mine. ...

The Suppressed

(Curtains rise on OPHELIA, who is sipping tea at a café. YOEL walks by. They both make eye contact.) OPHELIA – (Under her breathe) Ugh. Here it comes… YOEL – Op...

Once A Fine Notion

The old house stands on the edge of a mudflat along the Cheyenne River. Most of the white paint that once made its wood glisten in the sun has peeled off and be...

Note from the Editor, Issue 1

It’s a privilege to introduce three great pieces for our inaugural issue! I started Bull & Cross looking for stories, and these authors delivered. I l...

The Voices in Roberta’s Head

Roberta and Joel sat on Roberta’s couch. An episode of Sherlock played on the TV. Roberta stared blankly at it. Joel looked longingly at Roberta. The voices in ...

3 Brief Flashes

ANXIETY ATTACK I remember being thirteen and coming up from the depths of our backyard pool after holding my breath longer than any human being ever had. I expe...

Smallness

Janelle was small and birdlike but comparisons to Piaf are inapt. She sang in our guitar-based bar band, was its cynosure and only drawing card. When she died i...