Fiction
Short Story
Tallahassee Route
It never occurred to me how messy I can look. It’s almost finals week. I’ve been wearing my friend’s navy hoodie with noticeable white writing
Danielle Francis
Poetry
Opposable
How do I write with these frantic fingers Left index plugs tearing right aorta Right hand holds closed ripping left ventricle I am hopelessly, entirely
Rachel Salisbury
Short Story
One
I can feel the evening sun, warm on my face, but the chill of the wind coaxes me to pull my coat tighter around me.
Debi Crouson
Poetry
Pins
Crying, I recall my father shudders, remembering tall thin men at the foot of the bed apparitions at night, faceless heads like pins, mostly arms,
Robert Eric Shoemaker
Poetry
The God in the Attic
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