by Maddox Emory Arnold | Sep 27, 2024 | Issue #7, Issues, Non-fiction
I first became a boy in that dingy old dressing room, accordion curtains behind me making ripples in the mirror. Those curtains separated the boys from the girls—a barricade of thick, off-white canvas that never quite managed to keep out the smell of sweat wafting in...
by Mark Keane | Sep 27, 2024 | Fiction, Issue #7, Issues
I reach the top of Hawthorne Avenue at 4:30 pm. Another Thursday. Three minutes to gather myself and go through my breathing exercise—deep nasal inhalation, a count to five, and slow release. No more than three minutes, not enough time to attract the attention of...
by ay | Sep 27, 2024 | Issue #7, Issues, Poetry
i This is not the first time; it won’t be the last. It’s a sort of catharsis. I pick apart a dead fish with my bare hands, leftovers from dinner at my parents’ house. I’m vegetarian, but they’d forgotten again and given me the cod I hadn’t touched at dinner in a clear...
by LaDonna Witmer | Sep 27, 2024 | Craft, Issue #7, Issues
The thing about writing is you’re never over it. Never satisfied. Never finished. You’re always in search of the perfect word, sentence, paragraph, page, manuscript, and then the next idea and the one after that. You are ravenous, scavenging every situation for a...
by Wim Lankriet, Lena Hasell | Sep 27, 2024 | Fiction, Issue #7, Issues
tr. Lena Hasell When I woke up, the terrace floorboards were green. Some sort of moss. It looked intensely surreal. Thinking I was dreaming, I went back to sleep. A few hours later it had rained, and the green vanished. I pondered if it had been there to begin with,...
by J Kramer Hare | Sep 27, 2024 | Issue #7, Issues, Poetry
Just as I was thinking I’d become a gollum, slinking over slick stones in the dank dark of a cavern deep beneath the rays of youth’s naivety; just as I was thinking I’ve been decked in total shadow long enough that even moonlight might make red...
