Summer Dusk, Winter Moon by Berit Ellingsen
Yet Death yields nothing without resistance. Just as life was beginning to flow, Death caught hold of Summer Dusk with long and hungry fingers. His golden eyes went black with fear, dark brooks blossomed in his narrow face, and his long, lithe body, as much female as male, shriveled and wilted and withered again in... Read More
A Thousand Lives by Matthew Jakubowski
I wondered about the world between books and people, remembering an old idea I’d read, that we exist first as thoughts, then as words on a page, and only by some ghost of a chance, when someone gets lucky, are we eventually made flesh... Read More
Your Famous Sister Walking Through a Plate-Glass Door at the Gehry Museum If It Existed by Forrest Roth
I distrust people, everyone in this city, those who speak in the anecdotal. Yes I know you did something. We all did. And we all know each other. We know your famous sister, and you and her were, like, aberrant: seeming to cause willful self-injury and thus a seething insult... Read More
Hellhole by Tristan Foster
On a night when the moon is low and yellow as egg yolk, I watch a plane, silhouetted but for a few blinking lights, flying quiet as a bat over the roof of my home. Inside, upstairs, I use a pencil and an old city map that’s dog-eared at the corners to plot the possible... Read More
Door by Evelyn Hampton
The path ended a little after darkness had settled over everything.
“This is where I end, too,” Toby Douglas said. “I’ll leave you, and you’ll go on alone. Keep going until you reach a door—it’s inevitable that you will. Everyone I bring over the ridge eventually reaches it. When you get to the door, knock. Then... Read More