DOOMSDAY APOCALYPSE MELANCHOLIA BLUES by Nathaniel Duggan
It was an easy thing, that winter, to realize that you were not, in fact, you—rather you were the untitled, draft email of yourself, addressed to no one.
ON BEAUTY by Amber Burke
I don’t mind when men talk and talk; then I don’t have to do anything. They fall in love all by themselves.
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.
LISTENING TO DINOSAURS by Kyle Seibel
That morning at Rincon marked a change in my relationship to the dinosaurs. Fewer and fewer would muster when I called a session until I stopped doing it so much. Felt like I was bugging them.
DISAPPEAR HERE by Autumn Christian
I wanted a girl I could take my sunglasses off for. I wanted a girl that wanted to hold my reflection in the center of her eyes.
IN LOVING STRANGLEHOLD by Brecht De Poortere
Mosi is Sprite, Banji is Coca Cola. Whoever loses, does the rounds to check for hippos that might have strayed too far.
AN OPEN WOUND by Jasmyn Huff
What’s it like to die? To stop being. Gone in a moment, carried away on the wind. Does it hurt?
A CORBEAU BY ANY OTHER NAME by Camille U. Adams
How a mother could be so? Why when she’s in the same room with me I feel swallowed up by a heavy coat pulling me down?
THE PENNY IN THE WELL by Henry Elizabeth Christopher
We had sex, he took my blood. Positive ions, positive feedback loops. The cycle perpetuates itself.
A NIGHT WITHOUT ARMOR by Robert Long Foreman
Tamberlyn fell on the pavement, hard. Her body slapped against it. It sounded like someone dropped a lot of meat.