Fiction

My first real breath of air smells of pine and woodsmoke. It comes to me on a cool breeze, mid-afternoon, a sunny day that

Emma Kath Cullen

Fiction

I am in denial. Two pink lines.

Jessica Vergara

Short Story

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on this moment. How do I feel? What am I seeing? What am I hearing? Him.

Kristen Spencer

Poetry

Sammie Jo don’t talk much. Her mother like to cut out her tongue any time she speaks up. A bone outta socket. As big as

Robert Eric Shoemaker

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

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