Creative Nonfiction

Roses

Gabrielle Shiozawa

Grace drives south on State Street back toward our apartment. We have groceries in the backseat, and there are plants tucked around my feet to keep the soil from spilling as we travel. Grace's new ... [+]

Poetry
Short Fiction

Little Bird

Ryn Howell

Sometimes, I have trouble understanding people. It is not that I hate them, or even that I think I am better than they are. I just do not know why they do the things they do. I worked at bar once ... [+]

Short Fiction

Velcro

Molly James

My wife and I share everything. It's one of the many joys of marriage.
We share a name. Not just one but all three. We were both Emma to begin with. Once we were married, I took her last name out ... [+]

Poetry
Short Fiction

Silver Echoes

Joseph Kargbo

The vermouth weighed heavy in his hand.
"Honey, help me with my dress."
A cascade of silver teeth interlocked. His fingers grazed over the nape of her neck. Lingering for a moment, he ... [+]

Poetry
Poetry
Short Fiction
Short Fiction

Letters to the Wind

Catalina Vasquez

Once again, I found myself seated under the shade of the imposing stone structure of the train station. Once again, I saw a couple hundreds of people, all moving here and there, all of them looking ... [+]

Short Fiction

Beneath the Redwood Trees

Rylee Donaldson

A mushroom stood short in a forest full of redwood trees that soared high above the forest floor. Two of the white spots on his red cap opened to reveal his dry eyes, ready to cry but no tears could ... [+]

Poetry
Short Fiction

Night Lives

Thomas Demazieres

At first, I thought I misheard. I turned around to see to whom these words may be intended, but the person spoke a second time.
« Hello, my life. »
My eyes crossed hers, and it was ... [+]

Poetry
Short Fiction

Sea Legs

Maggie Dunn

Long before the moon controlled the tides, before Aphrodite rose from her bed of sea foam, before the oceans trembled in fear of the titans, there was Her.
She was a city of sin and glory, deceit ... [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Five Hours

Alyson Cabeza

The backdoor slammed as you stormed out. The loud strike of blinds hit the door and caught up to the slam – the last noticeable telling of your previous presence. I sat on the floor. The others ... [+]

Short Fiction

What Was Taken

A.M. Anderson

The ultimate catch of the midsummer day was not a fish of any sort - it was a child. The youngin wriggled at the end of the line, dumbfounding the fisherman who had caught them. Still, of good ... [+]

Poetry