Now first off, thank you for caring to listen. Or I presume so.I waited a long time to speak about the conspiracy that tried to bend me to its will and deny me mine, starting with my right to self-pleasure at the age of 12, to be master of my own body.
Continue reading “The Little Red Who Survived by Aleks McHugh”
No one can understand why Elena stays, and neither can I. If it had been me, I’d have left; there are plenty of other Cornish seaside towns to live in. Actually, if I really had climbed those steps and seduced a sixteen-year-old like Elena did, I’d have jumped from the watchtower onto the rocks below. They were discovered in the act by the caretaker, Jim.
Continue reading “Watchtower by Rebecca Klassen”
Hell is a frozen lake.
Crashing from the far end of the house. It’s my wife, Anna, dragging the boy inside from the garage. She’s plucked him up from school on her rush home from work. They’re shouting at each other, arguing, both near tears it sounds like. I reach over and slap the bedroom door shut. On the bedside table, my phone screeches the alert siren again. Any minute now, my wife will appear at the door and tell me to get up. The siren alert wouldn’t let me sleep, so while she was gone, I hopped up and packed–or, hit, that is, the things I need to keep here, be sure she doesn’t take: a kitchen knife and an extension cord. Anna flings open the bedroom door; the knob spikes sharply against the wall. “Lee, get up. We have to get ready.”
Continue reading “To Martin’s Farm by Travis Flatt”
Cling mama fur. Green tree. Blue sky. Rain, mud, vine, climb. Chase, run, catch, tickle, roll-roll-roll. Run, catch, tickle, Hoot! Hoot! Eat warm fruit. Sleep high, night breeze. Morning sun. Hot sun. Little bugs, itchy. Fingers in fur. Bad bugs. Find, bite.
Continue reading “Simian Revenge by Marco Etheridge”
“Jimmy!” Grant whispered. He grabbed his sleeping brother’s shoulder and shook him. “Jimmy, wake up!”
Continue reading “Something’s Wrong with Mom by Warren Benedetto”
The night had muted the crickets and, as if the fluttering of their filmy, prehistoric wings brought the heat down, the air had cooled into the namesake fog of these Smoky Mountains. The clouds moved into the darkness, rolling down Evelyn’s tongue into her throat, joining the vast, black distances between the flickering bulbs of a far-off holler and the lantern light cocooning her as she worked.
Continue reading “Dead and Gone: A Reckoning by Ashley Laughlin”
I am bleeding out on Corbin Harrow’s million-dollar, Moroccan, cream-colored rug because he raped a child in 1983. The blood rushing out of the hole just above my right hip-bone runs down my leg and pools at the rug’s edge. The spirit of my mother suddenly possesses me then, and I turn my head to Corbin, frozen only feet from me—still holding the fire poker he’s just pulled out of my side—to tell him that if he acts now, he can still get the stain out. After all, it’s only on one corner.
Continue reading “Corbin Harrows Moroccan Rug by Reese Alexander”
When my wife falls asleep in the hospital, I write Brock on our newborn’s birth certificate then super glue his eyes shut. His hands arrive to this world calloused like he was lifting heavy objects for nine months.
Continue reading “Pocket Monsters (Blue Version) by Corey Miller”
The town’s children were eager to help. They would gather sticks and small logs from the forest to add upon the pile. It gave them purpose, a role to play in what was to happen. The town’s folk had long been gathered. Many held small crucifixes close to their hearts, whilst memorized prayers left their lips. Others stood patiently, echoing silent whispers of what was to come.
Continue reading “Burning Away Sin by J.J. van Schaaijk”
I knew the neighbours’d complain if we let it rot out front again.
It was growin’ dark when the doorbell rang—four thirty dusk in December dark and only a little before curfew. It made me jump, though I’m sure I knew it was comin’, the same way I’d known it each time before (all except the first).
I hovered between the kitchen and the hall and rolled my left foot to grind my big toe in the hardwood. I didn’t want to answer it, but I had to. Nobody else wanted to either, I suppose.
When I shouldered open the screen there was nobody there, like usual. Or nobody livin’.
Continue reading “Government Assistance by Alyce Wood”
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