Fiction

I saw everyone, having fallen short, on the ground

James B. Nicola

Short Story

When Frances had to speak publicly, her legs shook. As a kid, she had grown faster up than she had out and she had felt

Kyra Baldwin

Fiction

How do you photograph silence? Is it represented by an empty room? A sleeping baby? A seascape?

Constance L. Lieber

Poetry

Can’t you let the film spool unseen on the stained floor? Its frames forever static as my fingers resplice our hands. Let my battalions of

Jacquie Wyatt

Short Story

You wake up. Are you dead? You don’t know where you are. Look around. There is a wide dirt road framed by tall, dark pine

Psalm Pineo-Cavanaugh

Poetry

The thunder polka of a new romance Began today on my left foot, the one Believed to lead suggestiveness astray. True love’s a waltz: it’s

LindaAnn Loschiavo