Fiction

Short Story

Carl didn’t know the code. The timer was ticking, the bomb was going to blow, but he had no idea how to shut the thing

Daniel Scott White

Poetry

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

Neth Brown

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

Fiction

He’s the sweet taste of strawberries on fluffy shortcake, with eyes that reflect an enormous Heart that’s displayed prominently on his sleeve.

Victoria Birmingham

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

Poetry

In our attic, among things, as it seems of past lives, lives a bitter God. When guests come to our house, we don’t mention him.

Ernad Osmic