Fiction
Poetry
The God in the Attic
In our attic, among things, as it seems of past lives, lives a bitter God. When guests come to our house, we don’t mention him.
Ernad Osmic
Poetry
Home No More
I miss your coffee-covered breath, Early in the morning. It made me hungrier than death For a thrill without a warning. I miss your sweet
Saira Danielle
Short Story
Social (Media) Distortion
I pursued him with a single minded determination that had been notably lacking in my previous endeavours. I wanted Richard to be mine like I
Caitriona Murphy
Poetry
Hurricane
hurricane Syllables [hur-i-keyn, huhr– or, esp. British, -kuh n] –noun After a couple weeks sentence of staying in some foreign place with trees, she came back home and Miami
Christell Roach
Short Story
You Look Just Like Your Sister
The red door to my home opened and the fresh smell of warm turkey and cranberry sauce collided with my senses the way Sticky
RJ Lloyd