Fiction

“I’m thankful I’m not a horse,” Marla says, as she reaches for the saltine sleeve inside her tote bag.

Amy Lerman

Poetry

She’s lighting a cigarette. The first time pops lost his words, I found her between the legs of a railway, staring at the ocean of

Christell Roach

Short Story

She was suspicious that everyone in the room was melting. The man sitting at the coffee table directly in her line of sight was

Rachel Salisbury

Short Story

It’ll be a Wednesday. It’ll be cloudy outside. There will be fog creeping over the ravine and remnants of an early-morning rain still drifting

Dorcy Jaffray

Fiction

I am in denial. Two pink lines.

Jessica Vergara

Fiction

A Draft of the Worst Love Letter Ever Written Dearest Stacie, Dear Stacie, My Dear Fri, June 16th, 2014 Stacie, Well hello! Greetings from

Lucy Holden