Fiction

Short Story

Bloated clouds float above the prison, obscuring the sun. I linger outside the narrow cell window, which is no more than a barred gap in

Eileen Herbert-Goodall

Short Story

You wake up. Are you dead? You don’t know where you are. Look around. There is a wide dirt road framed by tall, dark pine

Psalm Pineo-Cavanaugh

Short Story

The city centre fast food restaurant, part of a chain known across the world, was empty when the young couple entered. They paused to survey

John Butterfield

Poetry

Can’t you let the film spool unseen on the stained floor? Its frames forever static as my fingers resplice our hands. Let my battalions of

Jacquie Wyatt

Fiction

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

Carl Boon

Poetry

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

Neth Brown