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…
by Jason Grant Blue grass, brighter than what I had everin my humble, simple, quick life laid eyeson was growing near the garden—out there,where the Hat Man waited for me to try seeing for myself if He was reallya thing, like the puzzle pieces I hadlaid out on the kitchen…