Fiction

Short Story

When Frances had to speak publicly, her legs shook. As a kid, she had grown faster up than she had out and she had felt

Kyra Baldwin

Short Story

I jack off to one of the pictures of her I have saved on my computer and after I’m done I send her a message to tell her

Brianna Entler

Short Story

Three walls of the room are made of tin, but on the fourth side a polished floor opens, running like fabric into curtains of lace,

Rochelle Potkar

Short Story

There were times when it seemed like all the beauty was sucked out of my life. This was one of them. It was cold and

Allison Whittenberg

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

Poetry

Your voice alights on my armhair, a whiff of cigar smoke— caramel, and ghostly— “Cities die; let them.” Black thing to say. I patter

Robert Eric Shoemaker