Fiction

Poetry

In love with dismal days, he told me why: Won by dimensions, his green eyes caress Big bosomed clouds. Suggestiveness of haze Conjures up Milky

LindaAnn Loschiavo

Poetry

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

Short Story

I talk to myself. I have to. No one else will listen. No one else understands. Even if they did, I wouldn’t dare expose

Kuo

Fiction

Have you ever met someone who makes you question everything you’ve ever wanted?

Kelly Dasta

Short Story

While he sleeps I catalogue his body. When he is awake I keep my distance. While he dreams I touch and map in a

A.J. Whitaker

Fiction

“I’m thankful I’m not a horse,” Marla says, as she reaches for the saltine sleeve inside her tote bag.

Amy Lerman