Insect by Brad Rose

The police sketch artist says I haven’t changed a bit. Like Western civilization since 1500, I’m still not that entertaining, but thanks to my electronic tan, my digital clothes envy me. If you discount their continuous spam, their spark isn’t as bad as their light. Sometimes, I see people and they look crisp and clear, […]

There Were Good Days Too by Scott Hicks

Scattered stuffed animals and toys; the echoes of home in an empty chest–our sanctuary: fort, wagon, and ship. On the floor, the jetsam of old Tonka trucks, planes, and plastic soldiers. Three boys revel in make-believe. Cowboys riding dinosaurs or pirates: no captains, three scalawags. A voice cold as a northern storm thunders, “lunchtime, wash […]

Half of Courage is Rage by Sara Backer

We like our illness poets to sound resigned, beaten, accepting, and wise. No accurate melodramatic descriptions of poo or pus or puke: we don’t want to see the face of your suffering we want your illness to be symbolic of something larger, such as the Calvinist-rooted discrimination against the ill or the Capitalist cruelty of […]

Spoiler Alert by Jim Woessner

On page 79 we learn of Sheila’s true motivation, which is nearly lost in a sea of red herrings. Sheila wanted Jack dead not because of his numerous infidelities and unprotected sex. She simply wanted to wipe the persistent smirk off his face. Unfortunately for Jack, she wiped off more than just his expression. You […]

Pictographs by Bryan D. Price

now you are reading naked in bed from a book about yoga it is unashamedly hot in here surpassed only by a rare day in the fifteenth century when someone (or some godlike force) let all the steam out of the core and the oceans reversed themselves I have asked for a similar reprieve—nothing like […]

American Limbic by Jason Gebhardt

Mister Rogers tiles BLANKET for a Triple Word Score, then rests his hands on his knees and smiles. Center stage, the game board is agleam with letters. The audience applauds. Stage right, atop a stubby Doric column, an amygdala drifts jellyfish-like in the pale translucent liquid of its jar. The twin organ resembles two melting […]

Opera Template by J. Paul Dutterer

Seduce a peasant. If you do not know what a peasant looks like, seek a woman with an expression of superhuman purity, probably wearing a kerchief, an apron, and maybe even wooden shoes. Find out that she is your archenemy’s sister. Vow undying love anyway. Arrange to be surprised in the act by someone, preferably […]

Dive Bar by Josh Joseph

Sometimes I drive to an unfamiliar town and pull in at the most miserable bar it has to offer. The scene is always similar. Cigarette smoke swirling beneath yellow-stained light fixtures fixed above the heads of yellow-stained people. Old-timers. Frail in both appearance and demeanor, lighting the next smoke before the first is done. In […]

Cynthia by Lauren Turner

I walk up the steps to the apartment where we live, beside the college. Everyone who lives here attends the college, except you. It’s autumn: your stack of scarves almost entirely obscuring your face, but I know you’re in there. Last week, you left a series of notes on the walls admonishing your fellow tenants […]

Issue 26 CONTENTS

read issue > Ian Willey A Sad Story Limbic Limbo Plain and Simple   Michael Brockley Player to Be Named Later   Harrison Candelaria Fletcher Basic Training   Aaron Sandberg Antinatalism Teacher, Dream   Cassandra Atherton Wanderlust Moon   Paul Jones Pig’s Eye The Church of the Misdirected Saints   Dan MacIsaac Manx Cat   […]

A Sad Story by Ian Willey

Last time I saw him was just after our wedding when after ten years he’d dropped out of college for the nth and final time and was doing the same thing he did back in high school: delivering pizzas. He was even working at the same place. In fact, the manager was one of the […]

Limbic Limbo by Ian Willey

Someone I knew obliquely through work got married and I was invited by default to the reception. I was standing off to the side by myself waiting for the right time to leave when a man who looked like the head waiter came up to me and asked if I’d seen the second appetizer selection […]

Plain and Simple by Ian Willey

I wonder what it would be like to be the parent of one of those minor characters who gets killed off early on in movies like Predator and Kong: Skull Island. How do they react when a pair of men in sunglasses drop by their homes in a post-credits scene to break the news by […]

Antinatalism by Aaron Sandberg

I witnessed the act of my conception but have since forgotten the details and now sit squarely in a booth smiling with friends but slowly gathering back the finer points of my creation. And with each flicker of scene like a dusty film across my eye, I feel further from grace and closer to them […]

Teacher, Dream by Aaron Sandberg

The F-plus student is chasing me down the never-ending school hall to ask what can be done as I try to hop into a locked locker but can’t recall the combination so slip into an open class to see that it’s a final and I’m naked and haven’t prepared and I fail and I wrap […]

Moon by Cassandra Atherton

i. The third night, we drink too much tequila and you sleep on the edge of my hair until noon; your body curled around me like a single, right parenthesis. I feel your breath on the rounded curve of my shoulder; respiration like a steady metronome. This is my happiest hour: three quarters of a […]

Pig’s Eye by Paul Jones

Most people have us take them out so they don’t explode when they’re cooking whole hog. In the pit, it’s not too bad. A little loud sometimes. And the mess looks like tears on the pig’s face. But cooking head-on on a spit is another matter. The first time I ever saw a pig’s eye […]

Manx Cat by Dan MacIsaac

A latecomer, by dark, the full moon obscured by storm. The straggler slunk up the Ark’s wet ramp, lanky tail slick with rain. Last in. Mostly. The tom paused at the sill, sniffing the peppery scent of cypress beams and the stench from a hold rank with beasts. The great door avalanched. Laggard tail—severed. The […]

In Transit by Gwen Sayers

My father fled the morgue on New Year’s Eve, two days before we buried him. He traveled with the north wind, spitting sleet. He blew in through a keyhole with his fogged mind, clogged heart, and homelessness. The house shivered. I turned up the thermostat. An iridescent scarab clattered across the floor and vanished under […]