VIRGIN SUNNING ON ARTIFICIAL ROCK by Kate Busatto
But before I can swallow, I must disarm her. Rob her of agency and hope. Break the faith that brought her to the enclosure.
ELAINE by LJ Pemberton
The more of Elaine he had had, the less it felt like she belonged to him at all. Besides, he said, I have learned that even possession is a kind of disappointment.
PORCELAIN by Nicholas Claro
The couch is more of a loveseat. It hardly seats the two of us. On it is the pillow and blanket I’ve been using. This is the longest conversation we’ve had in over a week.
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.