Fiction

I have not always had my medication to protect me from epilepsy, to keep my hand steady while I handled boiling grease and kitchen

James A. Corvo

Fiction

My first real breath of air smells of pine and woodsmoke. It comes to me on a cool breeze, mid-afternoon, a sunny day that

Emma Kath Cullen

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

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

Neth Brown

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

Poetry

The thunder polka of a new romance Began today on my left foot, the one Believed to lead suggestiveness astray. True love’s a waltz: it’s

LindaAnn Loschiavo