Fiction

Poetry

Antagonistic Environment

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

Fiction

Dreamless Nightmare

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

Short Story

Wednesday

  It’ll be a Wednesday. It’ll be cloudy outside. There will be fog creeping over the ravine and remnants of an early-morning rain still drifting

Poetry

Auto-crimes

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