Not Like a Map

She had heard of a projectionist in the south, a man capable of rendering dream images on silk stretched taut as her own hymen. She had heard of her own hymen. When it broke, would the pain be bearable? The gown was over her head, her head popping through the neck cut...

We’re Toast

I love you like the crunchy toast from that vintage metal box which stood like a sleepy guard in your kitchen when we first met, before your roommate absconded with the blender, can opener, cherry pitter, duct tape, and her own fear of dying alone. A marginal friend...

Esbos Boo

Esbos didn’t know there was anything odd about him until he started school. He asked his mother why his classmates laughed when the teacher introduced him. His mother asked him what he remembered. He remembered a forest full of trees. Wind blowing through leaves that...

Things You Think About When You’re A Girl

The thing about being a girl in a ballad is you can’t die, because you’re already dead. Alive, alive-o: imagine being stuck singing that shite for the rest of your days. The thing about the ghosts of dead fish is they still smell like dead fish. I was a fishmonger....

A Scary Time

In the middle of the day on a Friday afternoon in the first week of August in the Summer of 1981, when I only thirteen years old, my mother accidentally put me in the washing machine with some dirty clothes and put me through two full wash cycles. At four foot eleven...

Garage Pockets

At my yard sale, I promoted a pencil sharpener for 50 cents.   Everything in my lawn sold out. Old records, glow in the dark bouncy balls, cigar boxes of rubber stamps, lamps   shaped like missiles. I even sold a tin can full of dead earwigs, told a kid they...

Bend Genres With Us!

Join our mailing list to receive the latest updates about new issues, contests, submission periods, and workshops.

You have Successfully Subscribed!

Pin It on Pinterest