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One-of-a-Kind by Kaycee Painter
“You’ve gotta check it out!” Eric exclaimed. “Please, please, please!” Kylie felt it was kind of morbid. Practically half the town had died during the pandemic—or at least that’s how it felt, after the third wave tore through. Storefronts still sat empty with sun-faded Closed signs taped in the windows. Some houses never turned their…
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Ghost Dog by N. R. Schmidt
Ginny Flamburger was haunted by the ghost of her dead dog. The dog in question, a large German Shephard-mix thing with constant drool and paws the size of catcher’s mitts, was omnipresent in life. He wasn’t an obtrusive ghost, no, he didn’t make a ruckus when there was company or romantic partners over, but he…
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Flinch by Renee Acosta
Arthur Finch had given up on the possibility of dignity sometime around the age of forty-three, when the last respectable clump of hair abandoned ship and swirled defiantly down the shower drain. Now, six years later, the most exciting part of his week was the dimming of the fluorescent lights as they powered down for…
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Oat Bunches with Fruit by Ian Sacks
The cereal wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Or rather, it wasn’t, but also was. Rumiko was certain she’d only purchased one bag of granola, now about one-third full. So why was there another one beside it? It was funny, how time had seemed to slip away after being let go from her last…
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Slightly Bitter by Rhonda Rosenheck
Skeltonic (Tumbling) Verse Was having a fine time,didn’t need that extra dimethat moms gave just in casewe needed to make escapesto have a stab at call-a-cabbefore a bad datebecame a sad fate. Went next to dip fondue.Cheese, bread and skew-ers red from strawberry dew.We laughed and drank – British gruyere stank –bubbling chocolate, rankedyummiest on…
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Something Old by Najka Altazy
My hands are lined with white,like I’ve been baking biscuits.the air’s martini dry.You’re marrying your mistress.High chestnut saints in brown,all humming with the Canon.a disappearing gown.An open door abandoned.My knotted face goes flat,a tinge of greenish yellow.I grab my baseball bat.Kinetic testing windows.The broken glass like dice,all snake eyes staring skyward.come eat your wedding rice.My…
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What Horror Means to Me by Elizabeth Nalepa
A brief explanation of my goals for Macabre Magazine When I agreed to take on the job of Editor in Chief in March 2026, I hit the ground running. It seems fitting now to take a moment and catch our collective breath before the next series of sprints. Since my first issue at the helm…
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Shopping Complex by Bert SG
They cut Julie early, so she punched the clock and left Cookie Ranch behind, left the whole food court behind. She hadn’t brought a change of clothes, but there was still time to make it downstairs and hit up Alley Brats, maybe steal a cool shirt so she wouldn’t be forced to hang around the…
