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Showing results for 2019

December 2, 2019 | Fiction

100 Ways to Propose to a Married Woman: An Excerpt from GITANES

Fawzy Zablah

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t want to suffer. I love her. I love her very much. 

November 29, 2019 | Fiction

Kinship With All Life 

Stephen Thomas

When Robert was small, it seemed like he didn’t quite see people. It wasn’t that he disliked people; it was just that he was more interested in igniting, with matches, small patches of grass soaked in gasoline. 

November 28, 2019 | Fiction


Steve Anwyll

I think about her. A faint yellow light from the street falls on the floor.

November 27, 2019 | Poetry

two poems

L.R. Bird


but o, what of the familiarity?
of known hands learning anew?
of a bad outfit thrown off like silk?
of the easy joke of it? our names
re-translated? my

November 26, 2019 |

Owed to an Ex

Mark Koepke

The idea that relationships are verses in the song of a life, or that grace notes can be found in ruined loves, struck a chord of latent sentimentality.

November 26, 2019 | Fiction

Extract from 'Dead Parents'

Gabriel Smith

When the estate agent arrived I was asleep. I thought about not letting them in. They knocked on the door three times. But I knew that my brother would be pissed if I did not let them in. So I went downstairs and opened the door.

November 25, 2019 | Poetry

two poems

Jenny Mary Brown

Silos and Lip Gloss

We lie on the floor of your living room.
You push up to your elbow and stretch your legs.

I, on my stomach, breathe deep into hard wood.
Blissed out like teens we are drunk

November 22, 2019 | Fiction

First Communion

Lauren Sarazen

Avez-vous trouvé tout ce que vous cherchez? the checker asks.

November 22, 2019 | Poetry

three poems

Yvonne Amey

The Years Dad Blamed the Breeze

Some nights I imagine Dad as the lift in a shoe or wing of a plane—
his wisdom packed with imaginary insight:   
all shadows have eyes,he'd say, stoking the embers

November 21, 2019 | Fiction

Nine Lives

Kaely Horton

I murdered the cat on a Tuesday and by Wednesday morning I was back to work, saying nothing to anyone, scanning milk cartons and zucchinis and rolls of toilet paper.

November 21, 2019 | Nonfiction

Some Notes on Escape 

Zach Jacobs

When I was about five, I prayed to God as I lay in bed. I prayed for the speed of a cheetah, just like the character I had seen in a cartoon on TV. He could run away from anything.

November 20, 2019 | Fiction


Joseph Grantham

Something bad happened. I sat on the bed. Tammy was under the bed but I didn’t know that. And the mattress is held up by wooden slats but the slats weren’t cut long enough, so they barely hold up the mattress and if you shift your position on the bed, there is a good chance that the slats will move out of place in the frame and the mattress will fall through the frame. And that’s what happened. The bad thing.

November 20, 2019 | Poetry

Conversation Between the Girl and her Drugs

Aumaine Rose Gruich

“and where’s the melody
to remedy the melody, the remedy to remedy the remedy” 
      -Diane Seuss 

Last ever moments of falling 
asleep with you, last 
ballooning mood & heartbeat 
so I

November 19, 2019 |

Happy Accidents

Alex Russell

You find yourself crying on the phone to your manager, telling them you don’t know if you’re in an emotionally abusive relationship or not. That probably deserves certainty.

November 19, 2019 | Fiction

I Used to Watch Touched By An Angel with my Grandmother on CBS

Josh Sherman

When she died, she just wasn’t there. I had to ask about her. She wasn’t in the usual place.

November 18, 2019 | Interview

Cunt, cunt, cunt: an interview with Laura Theobald and Mikaela Grantham

Elizabeth Ellen

I think they mean they just don't like a woman going around going "cunt cunt cunt."

November 18, 2019 | Fiction

I Think We're Alone Now

Sionnain Buckley

Across the vacant middle seat an old man is sleeping through all of this, chin to collarbone, neck bent at a right angle.

November 18, 2019 | Poetry

three poems

Samantha DeFlitch

Macy’s Closeout Sale                                                                                                             

I am curious what newcomers think of my city,
but it is not really

November 15, 2019 | Fiction


Devin Jacobsen

I forget how many jobs I got let go from and how many houses picked me up, sheets and everything, and dumped me around the corner until some other work, some other roof overhead, seemed to gather me up and dropped me hence. 

November 14, 2019 | Fiction

The Census

Sam Price

And any of the people that had been counted correctly, including me, could move or die, making the incorrect count accurate once again, if only for a moment.

November 14, 2019 | Poetry

two poems

Hannah Donovan


i sit
drip blood
think i am
such a giver
i want to be
or not)
where’s your effort
your trail of crumbs
leading to
better understanding
safer sex
i love you

November 13, 2019 | Fiction


Cara Benson

I am in a storehouse of answers, am I not? I head for the reference desk even though there's no one behind the counter.

November 12, 2019 | Fiction


Brian Kelly

No one comes. I walk up to the bike. The seat’s taller than my bike.

November 12, 2019 |


Richard LeBlond

It was revolution by music. The world would never be the same.

November 12, 2019 | Poetry

two poems

Michael Caylo-Baradi

Upward Mobility

First, we push the children into their games and giggles, to insulate them from obscenities circulating in the kitchen  / Then we lose our temper, & act like masters of a new

November 11, 2019 | Fiction

A Temporary Addiction

Michael Don

I don’t smoke, I called out, but no one heard me, and I sounded uncertain. 

November 8, 2019 | Poetry

three poems

Marcy Rae Henry


when nothing smells like you
i let dawn-colored fruit rot in the blue bowl
spray perfume thru the air and try to touch 
myself the way you touched me

too bad we met/never met

November 7, 2019 | Nonfiction

The Comet

Dan Higgins

I just remember the room dense with familiar sound, the melancholy howl of the perfectly in-tune saxophones, the electric brilliance of trumpets, a drummer with eight arms; my mother looking over at me, expectantly, as if to say, “This is what you wanted, right? This is making you happy?”


November 6, 2019 | Nonfiction


Christina Kapp

What will be will be. She was a good swimmer, and at least he was getting some exercise. 

November 6, 2019 | Poetry

Two poems

Mal Young

in the bella resource center

that lesser bond girl
her name was a play on genuflect

i can be good
lowering myself to the ground
everyone says reverent but they always
mean deference