Thank God by Anastasia DiFonzo
I’m bent in half on the bathroom floor, crater-veined. God is my phlebotomist. She says She’s here to leave a mark, but I’ve never been impressed with the falling tree question. I already know there are so many ways to not hear. I don’t know how to talk to Her, or what a prayer…
Grandmother by Daniela Dragas
The night was alive with the scents of early spring and the sounds of small insects stirring into life. The girl was sitting very still under the small circle of light coming from an old desk lamp turned towards a square sheet of writing paper. There was a certain yearning in her silhouette, in…
The Carousel Ride by Emmalyn Danvers
Stepping off the bus to go home is no different tonight than any other. The city streets have melted into a pleasant neighborhood with garden-themed street names. You’re nearly to your house when vice grips pin your arms to your sides, an icy hand claps your mouth. The shadows…
Forget-Me-Not by Morgan Bonanno
The deer carcass on the side of the road was missing its head. There was a clean cut along the neck, which made the animal look unnatural. Some backwoods bumpkin driving down the street must have seen the prize 12-pointer staring lifelessly into the asphalt and carved himself a trophy. The Stag head…
Ancestral by John Trent
Some places keep the old magicBarrows warrened & wardedBy sticky blood oathsThat we in guttural languageSpoke through our absences, our invocationsOf the black honey bee. John Michael Trent writes poetry and fiction in his native Houston TX. ‘Ancestral’ is his first published work.
Waiting for Yvonne by Dianne Blomberg
Yvonne plopped herself onto the familiar hotel bar stool and waited. The man she’d met online was expected. Once again, she’d interview the man then toss or keep. Tonight, she would introduce herself as widowed, careful not to come off as abandoned. Some thirty years ago, Yvonne and co-workers from Fineman’s swished into this…
Lyssa by Molly Osborne
I snuck out of our tan stucco house and ran across the hot blacktop barefoot. I wanted the bottoms of my feet to touch something other than carpet and linoleum. The asphalt baked all day in the Central California sun and it was cooking my toes. I ran straight into the golden grass on the…
Royal Blue by Benjamin Rose
أَشْهَدُ أَنْ لَا إِلَٰهَ إِلَّا ٱللَّٰهُ وَأَشْهَدُ أَنَّ مُحَمَّدًا رَسُولُ ٱللَّٰهِשְׁמַע יִשְׂרָאֵל יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵינוּ יְהוָה אֶחָֽדWe were born to run In my dream, it is always morning,Wine-dark dawn breaking into roseAgainst the grey of a high-rise skylineAnd the leaden coiling scar of the highway.The air is crisp with the death of darkness,Sigh of Winter thawing…
Ghost by Elizabeth Niedra
The bar this night has no walls. No walls, only a thatched-roof ceiling draped in cut-out pennants and Christmas lights hung like fishing nets, casting spackled light in red and blue, magenta and sea-green. There are no walls and so the walls are the colours of the darkness. They are palm fronts backlit…
Zombie Finds A Lover by Rachel Eve Moulton
The world was just beginning to warm to the idea of spring when Collette began to see the zombie. She thought it funny at first that a zombie would find itself so comfortable positioned in the middle of the south and northbound lanes just when the rest of the world was beginning to bloom…
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