Fiction
VISIONS: DREAMS I HAVE HAD by K.A. Polzin
April 23, 2024
My subconscious is unaware that I am no longer capable of giving piggyback rides to other adults.
THIRD HEAVEN by Rebecca Grace Cyr
April 18, 2024
The next day, I bought the cheapest plane ticket I could find and booked a night in the Super 8 outside of Coeur d’Alene. The room had red checkered half-curtains and free toothpaste.
THE RELATIVELY BEAUTIFUL AND THE DAMNED by J.S. Nunn
April 11, 2024
I’ve found that hobbies are a great way to distract yourself from the fact that it’s too late to realize your potential.
PASSENGER by Alexander Fredman
April 9, 2024
A fissure opened in the earth. The car found it, slowing in the way that makes you realize how fast you were going.
OUR LAND SAYS MY SISTER LOOKED PEACEFUL by Myles Zavelo
April 3, 2024
Our Land turns particularly bleak at night; bicycles are stolen and dumpsters are torched. In the morning, users who sleep rough light spoons and burn up powders in front of little kids going to school.
IN THE MICROPLASTICS by Caleb Cloaca
March 30, 2024
The world’s all burning. You might as well buy yourself a pretty little (not so little) mansion. You can too: make love in the microplastics.
TRAIL OF SMALL CLOWNS by Caleb Bethea
March 27, 2024
I heard my liver slapping onto the tile floor. My pancreas half falling out of me, hanging all the way down into the sink with my old skin.
THE TEACHER by Melissa Benton Barker
March 25, 2024
The teacher hated the children. Ashley with her electric fence and Michelle with her little doll and Daniel with his frog.