by Kit Zimmerman This story contains death and drug abuse. “Why’re you putting on makeup?” Julian asked. “Are you going somewhere?” “Yeah, maybe,” Kallie responded, leaning closer to the bathroom mirror. Her steady hand—adorned with chipped red nail polish, cheap rings, and tan lines in place of the frayed friendship…
by Lynn Benoit This short story is an excerpt from Benoit’s novel, “Poppy Write.” Chapter 1 My parents, Charles and Irma Longstocking named their only child Poppy. Surely, they meant well. Assuming that nobody wanted to be one of three Lindas or Susans in their class at school, they gave…
by V.A. Turner “Oh, my head,” Darena’th groaned as he opened his bloodshot sapphire blue eyes a bit, daylight spilling into his sleeping area from the open arched stone window frames and stabbing his brain like an icepick. He slowly lifted his broad alabaster white head on its long, thick…
by Marah McCarty (This story contains themes of miscarriage.) Blood stains are on her fingers. Suppressing feelings, she moves methodically. Flush, turn on sink, scrub her hands clean. She is now only a series of dreams. She is no longer supposed to be observant to her heartbeat or the pull…
by Camille Hatcher My life is a book. The Book writes itself. And real people, strangers and familiars, consult it daily. Some, to follow a trend set by best-selling book lists; others, to obtain unfiltered gossip about people they know. All attempt to uncover a thirteen-year-long mystery: its author. Idiots….
by Rob Armstrong Let’s begin by finding a comfortable seated position. The world will tear itself apart within a hundred years. You know how it botched things with COVID-19. We bickered about wearing masks or not wearing masks. Shooting up vaccine or not shooting up vaccine. A Chinese lab made…
by E.P. Lande “Aaron, who’s Madonna?” my mother asked. At ninety-five, her last recollections of pop culture had probably been Bing Crosby or Kate Smith. “She’s a current pop icon, Mom.” In reality, I didn’t know that much about Madonna either. Madonna had scheduled two concerts in Montreal. To Steve,…
by Kevin Jones Mia always thought that maybe, just maybe, if she held her breath long enough the world would fade away just for a second. She thought that the quiet wouldn’t feel so quiet anymore as if it followed her and the ringing in her ears would subside to…
by Elise Swanson Ochoa I pay these bastards every week because someone told me it was good for me. I pay her too. I pay my monthly subscriptions. I hate taillights, tire screeches, and my tight neck. “Mongolia was a dream.” “I feel your gratitude.” “Embrace it; your aura is…
by Paige Medlock This story contains mentions of suicide. The craving for memories and emotions burned my throat with desperation in an almost insanity-like frenzy. In the darkness, I paced and contemplated taking the life of a man who wanted nothing more than to take his own. I questioned myself…