Short Story
A Beggar’s Opera House
She was suspicious that everyone in the room was melting. The man sitting at the coffee table directly in her line of sight was
She was suspicious that everyone in the room was melting. The man sitting at the coffee table directly in her line of sight was
How do I write with these frantic fingers Left index plugs tearing right aorta Right hand holds closed ripping left ventricle I am hopelessly, entirely
An independent literary magazine for contemporary fiction, thought, and opinion about popular culture, society, and everything on the periphery.
