HOBBIES by Robbie Herbst
She’d say that it’s not enough for a man to create a life; he must sustain it. Protect it. Sufficiency means safety. It means contingencies. It means insurance.
COMPANY MAN by Jeff Karr
The lord’s light is a fathomless null. Sometimes you’re afforded a glimpse and it’s a tunnel on the other side of which you crawl on the accordioned car’s ceiling.
AT THE VERY CENTER OF YOU IS NOTHING by Alice M.
The masks were thin, pliable. They attached to her skin, seamless. They emoted for her, always appropriate, guaranteed to fetch the reaction she wanted.
WHEN IT FIRST STARTED COMING DOWN IT WAS BEAUTIFUL by Billy Irving
The Weatherman describes the snow as dumping. Feathery bundles fall against all things and accumulate against all things, and besides that: the grey, and the cawing of invisible birds.
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS by Aaron Burch
It was exciting and sad and over too fast and underwhelming and amazing, all at the same. It was all of it. It was beautiful.
PEGGING by Josh Sherman
Like anything, Hot Wheels has a language. Like any language you encounter, you want to make this one your own.
GETTING QUIET by Emily Marie Seibert
The parrot needed quietude and a sense of security in order to come down. My neighbors must’ve pegged me as mad.
SUPER BLACK by Sasha Brown
“It’s not that it disappears,” he said. “It’s just deep. It’s like a cliff. It goes all the way down. But it’s something new, Rico.”
DAVID’S GOING TO DIE by Aurora Huiza
Everybody in that coffee shop was always standing around, walking into each other, then backing up and trying again, like Sims, walking into the fridge, backing up, trying again.
UGLY BOYS by Daniel Isaiah Elder
Men. A constant desire, sometimes simmering, often burning. Never sated. And for him, I knew, it had been even longer.