Fiction

Poetry

Marge Simpson

Knows the heart ache of canaries. Hummimg bird to spilt milk No friends same dress Pearls that rarely dance Five dollar rose bouquets Without a

Fiction

The Decision

Maya puts away our coffee-cups – I’ll rinse them after our walk, along with the produce for lunch – and stands behind me, massaging my neck at the right spot.

Short Story

Blind Devotion

I jack off to one of the pictures of her I have saved on my computer and after I’m done I send her a message to tell her

Fiction

The Bricks are Shrieking

Cal Jacobs sat in an uncomfortable rolling chair made of plastic and polyester, staring out the tenth floor window of his high-rise.

Short Story

One

I can feel the evening sun, warm on my face, but the chill of the wind coaxes me to pull my coat tighter around me.