
-
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…
-
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…
-
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, taken down now to 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…
-
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…
-
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…
-
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…
-
The Creek by Bianca Ambrosino
She didn’t see ’em down theredown thereall the eyes in the creek don’t blink don’t blinkor they might make a move on youon youthey’ll sink their teeth right into them bonesyour boneslay under your feet you’re meatnow, she don’t see ’em so they follow her homeher homeain’t been quite right since the sun went downdown…
-
The Last Hunt by Jonathan Worlde
Hartmut has been following his target for a while before the maiden becomes aware of his presence. She knows something is lurking out there. She’s accustomed to this part of the forest and would usually be comfortable in her surroundings, but now she slows her pace, anxiously glancing about. She is an easy and vulnerable…
-
Within a Shadowed Wood by Sophie Gazarian
Grandmother’s house lies silent as it awaits the arrival of Little Red Riding Hood. It is a squat redwood cottage with a grey stone chimney that spits smoke into the clear blue sky. Grandmother had lit a fire and put the kettle on to welcome Red Riding Hood, as she always does. But Grandmother is…
