Fiction

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

Short Story

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

Brianna Entler

Poetry

Sammie Jo don’t talk much. Her mother like to cut out her tongue any time she speaks up. A bone outta socket. As big as

Robert Eric Shoemaker

Poetry

maybe beauty will remain an abstract dirge; a mantra to be ruminated over like a submerged leek becoming tender in warm water. as it seems

Dr. Ernest Williamson III

Fiction

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

Constance L. Lieber

Short Story

Back home, my sister’s bedroom overlooked our back deck. She could climb out her windowsill and drop down a few feet onto the wooden planks

Allison Sobczak