Lights out at 10 by Neil James
The hospital never sleeps. Even in darkness, light from the corridor slips under my door like floodwater. Footsteps squeak along vinyl floors.
A Few Words about the Weather by Kathryn Kulpa
1. Cloud Cover
“You’re pretty cumulus,” said my boyfriend, the meteorologist, and I asked if he meant I was heavenly.
Beyond the Stones by Gregory Meece
Queued for my sentencing, I reflected, like catechism taught us. The forgiven fingered their beads, tallying grace like dues. Stained glass flared—Moses, alight with judgment, mid-swing. Had I broken one? More?
Thursdays Smell Like You by Ashleigh Adams
Thursdays Smell Like You by Ashleigh Adams They smell like orange peel and oaky bourbon, same as your breath after three Old Fashioneds, like the Bud Lite we picked up at the gas station after the bar, like the lavender laundry detergent steeped in the threads of the...
Problems with Zero by Mitchell Gauvin
When Zero came to me after Polygon’s attack, hands like knives cutting wind and flesh, I could see Zero’s hurt at having to endure in this geometry.