Fiction

Poetry

Outside my window there is steam
and there are lights in a skyscraper
where people sit at their desks
and the lights let them work.

Alan S. Kleiman

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

Poetry

I dreamed of the day, In the dead of winter, A dreary day, When I’d step off the train And see you there- The day

Amara Nova

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

he swears that the desert is laughing, mocking him with the distant wail of the wind, the hoot of an owl. each spray of dry

Rachel Linton

Short Story

There were times when it seemed like all the beauty was sucked out of my life. This was one of them. It was cold and

Allison Whittenberg