Fiction, Volume X
You’re Not From Around Here
Rust Rorschach, Timothy Embertson “You are excused. If you don’t know certain things, I know you are not from around here,” Dementria Martinez told the man politely. She could tell…
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Nonfiction, Volume Xi long for the me i was before i met you
Skin Mask Replica, Hunter Louis i am drinking earl grey tea even though it is slightly bitter because i miss my mother and she always drank it at home and my…
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Poetry, Volume XDream Girl
Poppies and WD-40, Chloe Moulin Mania tastes like a Monster Smells like cigarette butts Bleach gasoline And gripping the clutch Infidelity shows up too Grows in Tindr swipes right Purging sweating…
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Poetry, Volume XDaddy Issues
Whispers, Emily Bryn Sylvia Plath would call me a spic. In the light my eyebrows almost pass for a Spaniard’s. In the darkness, Pablo Neruda would call me a gringa. What…
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Poetry, Volume XSearch History
Pink Creek, Louise Rossiter s stages of sleep stages of grief symptoms narcissism symptoms hypochondria symptoms cancer stomach ache small tits states where you can buy fireworks states where you…
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Fiction, Volume XA Shadowy Figure
Demonology, Jack Hoye I lay down on my bed and pull a photo out from under my pillow. A family photo – the last one too. I close my eyes and…
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Fiction, Volume XThe Shield Maidens of Hafrsfjord
Bright Nights City Lights, Jackie Phuong Ta Part One TW/SA The Northmen are all standing and sitting together in the hall of the great Jarl Thigurd Sigurdsson to await his announcement…
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Poetry, Volume IXPrecarious Weather
Rust Rorschach, Timothy Embertson The day I call the day my hair fell out, no hair actually fell out. Several bouquets simply gave with a small tug, and slipped…
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Fiction, Volume IXFox Studies
“junior year prom, mom had to unzip my dress because i was having a panic attack and couldn’t breathe”, Evelyn Staats On the day that Miles turns into a fox, I…
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Nonfiction, Volume IXReminiscing in the Land of Maple Syrup
An Ode to Breakfast, Emma Lassiter I was scared, that day. The last time I had been scared in that house was when I was seven, and my big sister…
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Poetry, Volume IXRefrigerator Door
Dancer, Rose Horell and I can’t stop thinking about how I’ve gotten so used to doing everything alone. so when I reached into the fridge for a dozen eggs for the…
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Nonfiction, Volume IXThe Planets Move Without My Consent
Poppies and WD-40, Chloe Moulin Morning consists of showering the body, donning the clothing, assembling the self. I wrestle into a tee shirt, and oftentimes a collared shirt atop it, a…
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Fiction, Volume IXThe Churchyard Yew
Catacombes de Paris, Elle Griffiths Granny always told me that the yew is the tree of death, and that I should never go under it. In college I learned that…
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Poetry, Volume IXABC Haibun
Gas Station, Oscar Zenteno I was born in the room where my mother ate her first hamburger, the room where my father sat at her bedside, licking every crumb off …
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Fiction, Volume IXThe Day It Happened
This Ain’t Belle’s Rose, Adriana Barker There came a winter that was not a winter, but the winter—the winter for which all the other winters had been waiting. The temperatures dropped…
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Nonfiction, Volume IXEntropy & the Irrefutable Nonsense of Being
Immersed, Abigail Nasari “The people or countries that seem to have the highest happiness index seem to embrace the chaos of being human, meaning they don’t pretend that life is…
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Poetry, Volume IXThe Nature of Time
The Complexity of Detail, Olivia Offutt It rises And falls Like breath Between whispers It twists Turns upon itself forever always will it swallow itself moment gorging on moment A…
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Poetry, Volume IXcomplex / complexion / complexity
Opulent, Taharah Islam embodied stories pass me on the sidewalk & my head is a balloon / floating above / but I still cannot see through skulls to the thoughts &…
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Nonfiction, Volume IXLove Language
Precious, Rose Horell No one stays in Calcutta, India forever. Scan the headlines of the nearest copy of Calcutta Times or The Telegraph and you’ll almost certainly find an op-ed…
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Poetry, Volume IXThe Pufferfish Limerick
Demonology, Jack Hoye There once was a man from Nantucket Who ate a pufferfish straight from a bucket. He said with a grin As he wiped off his chin, “The tetrodotoxin…