Capgras Syndrome
Sophie, Jackson Tupper One day you were no longer you. You’d swallowed yourself in the deep of your sleep and escaped through a door in the side of…
Sophie, Jackson Tupper One day you were no longer you. You’d swallowed yourself in the deep of your sleep and escaped through a door in the side of…
Grasp, Elena Makansi On the road that connects my part of town to yours, I waited for the nine o’clock night train to Penn Station. Octobers in Massachusetts…
Debbie, Hollis Moore The snow sticks lightly to the road in a pleasant way, shrinking the lanes to wet tire tracks in a delicate white landscape. This is…
Soft Smoke, Colin Brooks Montanus always had the best pot. He would show up, broad-shouldered, looking hefty and plaid clad beneath those Greek letters—not one of the…
Low Tide Shanty District, Harrison Carpenter For three days, the city has been on fire. Flames so hot the streets of gold are beginning to run, bringing…
Untitled, Julia Sub is the way my grandfather thinks about jesus believes until it’s just called knowing like science or directions his hands are hard as stone…
October, Sophie Treppendahl An hour west toward the beginning of Long Island we drive to a party in Hicksville. We pass a series of one-story houses. Airplanes, coming or…
Universale, Isabel Schneider Actually, I’m Jewish. It’s a phrase I’m used to saying, for one reason or another. What are you doing for Christmas? Actually, I’m Jewish. (Subtext: going…
Amalfi Coast, Eliza Delaney On the day the sky wept blood over Texas we stood together a little apart Bad posture against chalky aluminum fence, braids pulled…
Tod’s Point Sunset, Alexandra Metter [Trigger Warning: Depictions of Death] Brian’s snore raked through Eleanor’s ears. His nasal strip and her earplugs had failed her again and she was up,…
Bed of Puzzles, Kathleen McIntyre [Trigger Warning: Depictions of Death] My mom is dying. We are in her hospital room. It is 2 am or 4 am. It smells like…
Untitled, Rachel Adler But I shrank two inches about a month ago. It was the day my mother’s fiancé and his son moved in, and since that day…
Sheets No. 1, Kory Gabriel I. She is Becoming something nocturnal. Watch as she teethes on moondark. She is going, gone. II. I Hear …
Roof Monks, Zoe Weingarten [Trigger Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence; Domestic Violence] My oldest brother is named Levi, but he goes by “Tray” when he’s selling drugs. The alias occurred to…
Afterparty 2, Mandi Vivacqua His nails weren’t coral but candy cane red cadillac and dark—satin lining of my mother’s purse, brains of a crushed watermelon or even the latex guts…
Sufi, Tamara Turk In the desert we speak of aquifers, how they are the spaces between things, how they hold water to quench thousands. All the cracks…
Untitled, Kristen Prosen I. Two months before you leave in a Chicago gas station, you flash your brother’s ID and buy a twelve pack of Budweiser. Tins of…
Infinity, Michael Chilcote I. Pick some fruit, bruised purple. We did not plant this tree. So we walked, so we stand, lakeside. The grey dock. Wind…
Untitled, Andrea De Sa Trigger Warning: Child Death Mention; Depictions of Animal Death] To protect a vegetable garden from rabbits you must lay the chicken wire twenty-five centimeters into the soil.…