January 2025
The Pumpkin Seller by: Donovan Douglas Thiesson
I first met the pumpkin seller mid-October, pounding at my door like a grim salesman. He was dressed in a suit and tie, clean shaven, his hair short and styled. Handsome, one of Jehovah’s boys, no doubt… yet I knew he was not. Tucked beneath his arm was a plump pumpkin, as orange as embers, and in his other hand he clutched a long kitchen knife.
The Dead Princess by: Brandon R. Burdette
Her funeral happened on a dark, wet, autumnal day. Fall's soggy leaves, red and orange, yellow and brown, were stamped all over the tar of the glossy, Kinkade-like street. I watched the service take place from my car, just outside the cemetery gates, and the active rain assisted in my obscurity. She had just died the week prior, so her body hadn’t been held very long in the morgue. I also knew that the casket in which she was currently enclosed was aiding the preservation of her profound natural beauty. She’d been buried the night before so as to avoid the following day’s ill weather.
Kittens by: Steen W. Rasmussen
He is the pig farmer who drowns four healthy kittens in a plastic bucket. Before exiting the pigpen, he grabs one dead kitty and wipes his soiled boots clean with its glistening fur.
He walks to his house where a well-earned lunch awaits him, and he throws the sad little corpse to the yard-dogs. The other three he’s already fed to the pigs.
He walks to his house where a well-earned lunch awaits him, and he throws the sad little corpse to the yard-dogs. The other three he’s already fed to the pigs.
A Delightful Meal by: Georgie Popovitch
She comes back into the house from emptying the trash, a heavy load this time. She takes a deep breath after dragging the two lumpy bags and then takes another, deeper breath, as with great effort she hoists them into the plastic barrel. Her right-hand slaps the lid firmly shut as though to lock it; no escape for this trash. It is held captive until the big truck arrives and slides its two large forks into the container’s sides, lifting and tilting the refuse into its open, filthy mouth.
Residue by: Laura Shell
He slept that limbo sleep, the place between awake and rest, because of the residue on his lips that made him tongue them and rock his head back and forth and moan in confusion. He dreamt of glazed donuts.
The thick, meniscus gook tasted sweet and salty, and when it entered his mouth, it coated his teeth, and as he chewed, it became like paste, and gagged him. He immediately woke, sat straight up in bed, spat out the intrusive clump of whateveritwas.
The thick, meniscus gook tasted sweet and salty, and when it entered his mouth, it coated his teeth, and as he chewed, it became like paste, and gagged him. He immediately woke, sat straight up in bed, spat out the intrusive clump of whateveritwas.
December 2024
The Guy From Grindr by: Sukanya Majumdar
It had been six months since I was released from the mental hospital cum de-addiction centre. The situation had become terrifying because of my uninhibited use of drugs which led to some scary visions and hallucinations. I had to be shifted to the mental hospital. My family members had cooperated in every way possible, starting from the admission process to dropping in from time to time to remain abreast of my progress. They all wanted me to get better. I wanted to get better too.....
The Fusing by: Laura Shell
She heard the collective shrill from the trees above, breaking the early morning birdsong of spring. Somehow, she knew what was coming because she hunched her back and closed her eyes. Her skin knew, too; gooseflesh formed all over. And then they fell from the tree, a horde of them—red, hard, segmented bodies, two inches long, with stingers at their asses, antennas on either side of their heads, between their eye sockets and their ear holes.....
Sun Tunnels by: G.C. Collins
They both knew it when Dad finally died. Miriam was in the shower, watching the water cascade off her body with unfocused eyes, listening to His words echo in the back of her mind, and then – silence, like after the desert swallows a gunshot. Grief settled in slowly, first in revulsion to her morning coffee, then the way the trucks woke her up at five in the morning, seemingly every morning. Finally, an anger in the lost cause of spring when the cold motherfucker of a winter held on tight to the days.....
Things Are Looking Up by: Warren Benedetto
I’ve been in a dark place since the accident.
I know I need to let her go, to accept that I’m never going to see her again, but I can’t. I can’t rest. I can’t lie still. I can’t move on. All I can do is think about her. My wife. My love. My Lisa....
I know I need to let her go, to accept that I’m never going to see her again, but I can’t. I can’t rest. I can’t lie still. I can’t move on. All I can do is think about her. My wife. My love. My Lisa....
Strung Out Party Animal by: Donovan Douglas Thiesson
The moon peeks briefly from low lying cloud cover, and Aaron’s skin tingles. Aaron is late for Sherrie’s party and it’s a long walk, at least an hour. His car broke down earlier that day, sagging in traffic like a tired drunk, barely making it to the curb before vomiting out a slick puddle of oil. Tow trucks are expensive, and so are cabs, and Aaron could only afford one, so here he is on foot....
November 2024
In the Dirt by: Mike Nichols
The boy enters the room and locks in on his mother’s old Kimono where it hangs from the closet door handle, its deep purples and blues. Crimson slashes. The face of a dragon almost obscured by the pattern of colors. She bought it at a shop in Chinatown while visiting San Francisco before he was born....
I Don't See How That's Any of My Business by: Joelle Killian
Without a cloud in the sky, the evil daystar burns my irritated eyes. Though it serves me right for staring at my phone for hours, swapping nudes with DemonTwink on Grindr....
Untitled by: Alex Hoeft
Again.
The screech of an owl.
I claw at the ground. Six minutes. The soil beneath my skin is cold, always cold; grit building under my nails as I scrabble through the loosely packed earth. My hands are fish-belly white beneath the moon, and my breath seesaws in and out, serrating my airways....
The screech of an owl.
I claw at the ground. Six minutes. The soil beneath my skin is cold, always cold; grit building under my nails as I scrabble through the loosely packed earth. My hands are fish-belly white beneath the moon, and my breath seesaws in and out, serrating my airways....
The Matched Pair by: Edward Ahern
“Janet, you need to come over. The television’s not working....”
You & I by: J. Awad
This maze is haunted. I can feel it in my bones....
Giddy Moon by: Donovan Douglas Thiesson
Alistair’s smile shines bright and the crescent moon beams back. It is a cold October, and coarse frost coats the pavement. Alistair’s stringy hair flaps lightly in the crisp night breeze as he sits in the doorway of an innocuous bungalow, a salad bowl filled with Halloween candy before him. He wears no costume, and never will.....
October 2024
Head Case by: David O'Mahony
Jonah had kept the skull above his desk for years. Despite all the moves across six continents over two decades, that had remained constant. No matter where he shacked up, he had a desk against a wall with that skull above it; sometimes mounted on the wall, other times, like now, just hanging from the ceiling......
Die Doppelgänger by: Elizabeth Kirwin
Dear Mitty:
Sam Snatch stopped by the house the other day and left these for you. He said you were gonna need these clean, new undies in prison, ‘cause you’re an old school alcoholic and you sometimes shit yourself.
Sam was embarrassed saying this, but since you haven’t given his mom a dime since March, they just call you “Shitty” over there.....
Sam Snatch stopped by the house the other day and left these for you. He said you were gonna need these clean, new undies in prison, ‘cause you’re an old school alcoholic and you sometimes shit yourself.
Sam was embarrassed saying this, but since you haven’t given his mom a dime since March, they just call you “Shitty” over there.....
Picnic by: Graham Buchan
Do you remember that picnic we attempted? It was a Saturday in late May and we took the car thinking at some convenient spot we would be able to pull off the road, unfurl our blanket, and have leisurely salmon sandwiches and white wine in a dappled glade awash with bluebells. But it wasn’t like that. The country lanes were too narrow to park, the fields were strictly off-limits, and every village in England is trimmed with double yellow lines. Where was it we got to? Was it north Essex, or Hertfordshire? I don’t know, somewhere out in the environment for sure....
Immortality by: LJ Jacobs
The Devil appeared at exactly the right time....
Tombo by: Joshua Vise
Joseph Lynch ducked into the darkened alley, not overly concerned about attracting attention, but at the same time hoping to avoid being noticed. Though the chances were low, there was always the possibility of bumping into one of his students from his Academic Writing class, despite the fact that any student would likely want to keep an unexpected meeting under wraps just as much as him. After all, it was assumed that anyone in this area at this time of night would be looking for the same thing, and the rumor of such a thing could torpedo a reputation or a career just as quickly as a fact....
September 2024
With One's Own Eyes by: Perry Ruhland
When I applied to this menial remote position, I accepted that my days would be spent sequestered in my garret apartment, chained to an obsolete desktop computer, obligated to correct and authenticate an incessant deluge of near-identical charts, tables, and documents of a highly technical nature. This did not mean that I was prepared for its effect -- it is one thing to occupy dead time, and another to drown in it. During that period spent acclimating to the realities and rhythms of the position, my only escape was to be found through the teardrop window which rose behind my computer, a gothic eye fixed on flat roofs beneath a leaden sky. In this sight I found peace, but not stimulation; within weeks I ceased to dream. And so, in an attempt to reanimate my senses, I took up the habit of leisurely twilit walks....
YOu R sMellY by: Paul O'Neill
The kids rocket around my classroom, scream, wrestle, call each other wretched names. The word respect is foreign here. Nonetheless, it’s my job to mould their ten-year-old minds.....
Today is Tuesday. by: Justine Engelbrecht
I can see her walking into the coffee shop across the street. This is not the first time. My chest begins to tighten in my throat; every time I see her, it’s like looking in the mirror from a distance....
Camp (In)vocation by: Cassandra O'Sullivan Sachar
Jamie awoke to the sunlight streaming through the bare windows of the cabin. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying block it out, feeling every last drop of the shitty vodka she and the other camp counselors had sneaked the night before....
The Little One by: Scott Urban
Deirdre was sorry she had mentioned anything to Jeremy about going to De-Lish for lunch. By the time she had finished Saturday morning errands–clothes from the dry cleaners, books back to the library, payment on the phone bill–she was ready for nothing more than returning home and seeing if her son would hold still long enough to curl up with her and let them both enjoy a mid-day nap. But Jeremy knew that De-Lish was offering a Rockin’ Roller metal collector’s car with their children’s meals, and he had to collect all eight of them. He had seven–the special silver-flecked roadster remained elusive....
August 2024
The Scarring by: A.J. Brown
On the bed lay the drunken man, his eyes wide and blood shot. They darted from side to side. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but he only managed a few strangled croaks. His arms and legs were bound to the bedposts with ropes. He was as naked as the day he came into the world.....
Falling Doom by: Gordon Linzner
“Barton! Thank god you’ve come!”
I’d barely had time to brush the snow from my overcoat when I felt the garment whisked off me, and I was physically pushed into the living room of my friend’s apartment. At least, the floor plan of the building probably called it a living room. I doubt that Ed called it anything at all, using it as den, office, guest room, or anything else he happened to need it for......
I’d barely had time to brush the snow from my overcoat when I felt the garment whisked off me, and I was physically pushed into the living room of my friend’s apartment. At least, the floor plan of the building probably called it a living room. I doubt that Ed called it anything at all, using it as den, office, guest room, or anything else he happened to need it for......
Contain and Control by: David O’Mahony
Bess rested one hand on the plexiglass as the other hovered over the incinerator switch. Her heart was rattling and her breathing ragged. When she swallowed it was hard like bitter tears. She shivered. The window ran the height of the room and had been made thick enough to keep the dead at bay, but it wasn’t thick enough to make what she had to do any easier.....
Friends in High Places by: Justin Alcala
Dad went to jail, and we went to Wrigleyville. It felt like our ninety-sixth move in three years and the latest apartment was the worst. A grubby stone three-flat with cracked bay windows strangled in pest filled ivy. Atop the roof’s east corner, the ugliest gargoyle ever sculpted glared down in resentment. On the west bend, a pillar of stone where it’s partner once mounted—taken, just like dad.....
Knot the Noose by: Clint Smith
I’m on the cliff now—the same remote outcrop Josh and I visited our first week in Negril. The climbing rope has been clumsily wound around my neck. The principle tall-thing in the ragged robe (I count three, but there are noises in the nearby forest) is limping toward Josh. This grayblue, pre-storm ceiling accentuates the shadowed vascularity of the tropical vegetation and the tall-things’ lineaments: grey, flaking skin inadequately imitating the texture of leprous, reptilian flesh.....
June/July 2024
Black pansies and the rictus of a smile by: D.X. Lewis
"Ooh yuck! I don’t want to live here, Daddy!"
Sophie, our seven-year-old daughter, has spotted seven tombstones at a property we’re visiting....
Sophie, our seven-year-old daughter, has spotted seven tombstones at a property we’re visiting....
A Summons in Spring by: Yermiyahu Ahron Taub
The drive was long but not winding. Direct, blunt even. The front gate locked but easily scalable. Dusted, not caked, with rust. Paint chipped. The young and not-so-young-but-still spry found their way through its pliant bars. The cameras were still on but no one checked the video. Who had time? Everyone knew about the museum. There had been talk some time ago of turning the building into artist studios. Or was it condos? Yes, that must have been it. The meetings had been well-attended and surprisingly calm. He hadn’t attended the meetings, remembers them only as a long-ago item in the metro section.....
May 2024
Date with Death by: D.X. Lewis
The crematorium is busy, the car park full. Pall-bearers carry lavish wreaths and “floral tributes” to the chapel. Someone important will soon go up in smoke. But I am not here to attend a VIP funeral. I am here to mark the 20th anniversary of my mother's sudden death, by visiting the spot where her ashes are scattered...
Lullaby by: Maria Rybakova
Billy who had cut his roommate into pieces and stuffed the pieces into black garbage bags told Dr. Chaikin during lunch that a Russian woman was teaching them a story about a card game. Billy said there was a man in the story, named Hermann, who made an old lady tell him the secret of winning:
“His only dream was to win at cards, and he thought the lady knew how. But the old woman had tricked him, and he lost it. Then he killed her.”...
“His only dream was to win at cards, and he thought the lady knew how. But the old woman had tricked him, and he lost it. Then he killed her.”...
On the Inside by: Rebecca Benison
“I’m seeing some cloudiness in your lungs,” the doctor said as she held up an X-ray, squinting in the light. She was a petite brunette who didn’t look old enough to have finished medical school, Harry thought to himself...
APRIL 2024
The House on G-16 by: David A. Elsensohn
Coming home from San Jose last September, I knew of two routes: take the 5 Freeway south to Los Angeles, or the 1 down the coast. The two paths split widely from each other, leaving a swath of unknown California between. I chose the scenic route down the coast, glad to finally be done with all the meetings.....
Neverending Carousel by: Morgan Chalfant
Tamsen Plante combed the small Berlin curio shop, while her fellow history graduate students went into a jewelry store next door. Eventually, she meandered down an aisle toward the back of the store. After a bit of perusing, her eyes caught sight of a small object half obscured by a pile of second-hand clothing. Brushing the garments aside, soon she was staring at a snow globe.....
Beast Charming by: Allister Nelson
Old wives' tales go thus: Behind every man, a monster. Behind every husband, beast. And roses become thorns in time.
But the curse of my egregious veins only ever comes at midnight: turning me to a monster....
But the curse of my egregious veins only ever comes at midnight: turning me to a monster....
Piper's Pain by: Sarah Kelderman
Piper wanted and craved her job every day. It was like a drug. That needle in her arm and heart, that rush as she entered internet land and the virtual bakery where she worked. She was aware of her body—laying on their mattress, in their dingy studio apartment downtown. It smelled like mold and fried fish, and she heard the constant drip from the rusted faucet, but she also could smell the bakery—the bread and donuts and cake and other sweet things, and it was warm, and she heard laughter and talking and music....
Past Fiction:
Pins and Needles by: Sarah Kelderman
I stood before two narrow staircases, both leading up. The hallway I stood in was dim and orange and covered with a dingy red, oriental rug. The pictures on the walls were smeared and crooked. Somehow I’d become lost inside this building. I’d become so lost I couldn’t even hear the rain and thunder outside anymore, pelting downwards, or hear the talking and laughter of my group of friends.....
I stood before two narrow staircases, both leading up. The hallway I stood in was dim and orange and covered with a dingy red, oriental rug. The pictures on the walls were smeared and crooked. Somehow I’d become lost inside this building. I’d become so lost I couldn’t even hear the rain and thunder outside anymore, pelting downwards, or hear the talking and laughter of my group of friends.....
Wanna Go On The Rollercoaster? by: Dom
A creepy, eerie music filled my ears as I looked around at the amusement park, that wasn’t fun at all. On top of that, a big circus was also in the amusement park, and me and my best friend didn’t go in there because Roxie knew how much I hated clowns, and how much they scared me.....
A creepy, eerie music filled my ears as I looked around at the amusement park, that wasn’t fun at all. On top of that, a big circus was also in the amusement park, and me and my best friend didn’t go in there because Roxie knew how much I hated clowns, and how much they scared me.....