by Paul Lamb | Oct 15, 2019 | Fiction, Issue Eleven
I wait in the alley while he wriggles gracelessly through his window – it’s easier than he lets on – and we start walking. I gotta get out of this dump life, he says, like he knows. Ain’t no way, I say, because I do. He has his uses, as long as he doesn’t talk too...
by Katherine Walcott | Oct 15, 2019 | Fiction, Issue Eleven
What first caught my eye was her hair. She was sitting a few tables down from me at a late night McDonald’s. You couldn’t miss the hair. Screaming, neon, electric blue. I didn’t think you could get that color outside of a cartoon. I stared. You would have too. She...
by J. Tarwood | Oct 15, 2019 | Issue Eleven, Poetry
The roof took off long ago. So did the south wall. Doctors in muddy white pace and shiver. Nobody starts a fire from wood in the rubble. The tallest guy stalks about with a quivering stick, dowsing for a buried trickle of fresh water. Only weeds bubble from cracked...
by Judyth Emanuel | Oct 15, 2019 | Fiction, Issue Eleven
About a curious joke, a dare this fisherman in his yellow slicker, him drunken just a few drinks, ho ho ho and a bottle of, but still he climbs aboard the trawler and turns the key or whatever starting the motor, a simple rumble and diesel fume, stay above water,...
by Rachel Tanner | Oct 15, 2019 | Issue Eleven, Poetry
I am watching the TLC show about the Duggar family and groaning because purity culture is so damaging but I can’t stop watching another courtship another wedding another baby and did you know that Derick got kicked off the show because he said something...
by Jonathan Riccio | Oct 15, 2019 | Issue Eleven, Poetry
1. In my spare time I take sandpaper to a spaceship. The flour sack holds geraniums. A solar system of silverware dines uncloned. The quarks I’ve placated, credit card decals on a store-window universe. 2. The phenomenon is churches de-paneled of stained glass....
