Fiction

Poetry

Floral straight jackets hiding women
It’s too pretty to get dirty.

Neth Brown

Fiction

Improv class was how
I learned to say what
I wanted to say to you–

James Croal Jackson

Poetry

She cornered herself against the shoulders of two meeting walls and wrote her screams into the plaster. The sun was a blade against her skin

Valentina Cano

Short Story

You tell her you love her the day she graduates. It’s a carefree spring morning, the perfect kind for the endurance training you sometimes did—

Natalie Wee

Short Story

The city centre fast food restaurant, part of a chain known across the world, was empty when the young couple entered. They paused to survey

John Butterfield

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