Fiction

Poetry

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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

Short Story

Black Shrunken Blemish

When Frances had to speak publicly, her legs shook. As a kid, she had grown faster up than she had out and she had felt

Fiction

Secondary Colors

June 1st Julia is dreaming. She’s always dreaming. Frothy ocean waves roll over her fingers as they sink into the sand, lifting her up into

Fiction

After the Earthquake

At first, the dreams were jagged and bewildering, like migraine lightning or a Dali canvas.

Short Story

The Code

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