Fiction

Poetry

I miss your coffee-covered breath, Early in the morning. It made me hungrier than death For a thrill without a warning. I miss your sweet

Saira Danielle

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

I stood in my kitchen, hands slightly palsied as I poured myself a glass of water from the sink.

Warren P. Genesis

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

Fiction

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

L. Hugo Mackie

Short Story

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.

Debi Crouson