Fiction

Cal Jacobs sat in an uncomfortable rolling chair made of plastic and polyester, staring out the tenth floor window of his high-rise.

L. Hugo Mackie

Poetry

“Let’s be in love for just tonight,” you said, When I had better things to do in red High heels. Encircling your big bad bed

LindaAnn Loschiavo

Poetry

I. I see a video of women cycling in short dresses talking of how not to flash. They wide-angled their legs, pull the back of

Rochelle Potkar

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

Confessional

I thought of someone else while I kissed my boyfriend. “I did that once,” I said. “Oh no you didn’t.” said Heather. She’s the girl

Kelly Anderson

Fiction

How do you photograph silence? Is it represented by an empty room? A sleeping baby? A seascape?

Constance L. Lieber