Fiction
Fiction
Violets Are Blue
Bending at the knees, Camilla crouched down to view the lipsticks on the lowest shelf of the drug store cosmetic aisle. The hem of her black dress grazed the linoleum floor as her fingers hovered over the edge of the shelf.
Jordan Nishkian
Poetry
Where’s Nana?
She’s lighting a cigarette. The first time pops lost his words, I found her between the legs of a railway, staring at the ocean of
Christell Roach
Short Story
A New World
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
This is What You Do
I stood in my kitchen, hands slightly palsied as I poured myself a glass of water from the sink.
Warren P. Genesis
Poetry
When You Grow Up
I’d rather be a collapsed flower drenched in rainwater; succumbed to the well where wishes weld winning whims. though not alone as the barren heart
Dr. Ernest Williamson III