Poetry
Poetry
Poetry
Creative Nonfiction

Prison of flesh

Amaranthe Ivory Violeta

Death.

The process and length of the decay of flesh, any flesh, depends. Little things. Big things. Many things. But generally once the rot has set in, this process is irreversible. You see ...  [+]

Short Fiction

The other place

Amaranthe Ivory Violeta

Here in this place of other, I am an observer.

On an eerily tall mountaintop, I stand. It’s dark shadows and peaks crawling high up into the ether, allowing for a birds eye view of the world ...  [+]

Poetry
Short Fiction

12

Lea Lanzalotto

The clock strikes 12. The hour of birth. The hour of candlelight. The dawning of time. The hour of unanswered screams on an empty road. A cold wind whistles through the forest. The unseasonable chill ...  [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Closets

Lea Lanzalotto

The bottom of a closet is a welcoming place. I know - not the greatest sentiment for a queer person to express, but just try to hear me out on this one.
The hanging clothes hardly graze the tops ...  [+]

Poetry
Short Fiction

Harvest Moon

Sabin Bottomstone

His mother told him a story, once. A story told to her by her mother, and to her mother by her father, stretching all the way back to the moment their family came to be.

He’s heard stories ...  [+]

Short Fiction

I Want To Set Myself On Fire

Mira Dhillon

He can’t believe he’s made it this far. Every blink his eyelids perform proves to be a battle. One lapse of thought could drown him in the depths he won’t have the nails to claw out of. But for the ...  [+]

Creative Nonfiction
Short Fiction

The Bassoon Player

Callie Holloway

The house on Eleventh Street boasted a stout reputation of being haunted. Mr. Scott Reynolds, a skeptic by nature and a cynic by nurture, did not believe in ghosts.

The first incident occurred ...  [+]

Short Fiction
Creative Nonfiction

My Bravest Year

Valerie Ohtsji

SNAP! At first, it did not even register. The world suddenly tilts, like looking through a camera while it drops, your vision spinning with it. Then, you are blindly wondering why you are on the ...  [+]

Poetry
Short Fiction

The Red Lipstick

Niki Farivar

When I woke up, we were surrounded by water as far as I could see. You smiled at me.

“Hi!”

I smiled and nodded my head as Hi!

I stretched a bit. You handed me a cup of tea and I ...  [+]

Creative Nonfiction

The Russian Song

Niki Farivar

I’m sitting on the couch, staring at the roof. One of my legs is on the table that is filled with cups and garbage. The plant next to my foot is dried. A slight light enters the room from the gap ...  [+]