The Blood Artist by Jefferson Navicky
Like a meteor on Mars, red dust kicks up from the bricks. The men in white suits with gas masks and their little buzz saws are tethered to the scaffolding by what looks like a large scrunchie.
Only a Skeleton by Stephanie Devine
Fish-Eye—As I breastfeed the baby, he catches me in his fish-eye stare. I’m drinking iced coffee, and condensation has gathered on the glass.
Regeneration by Epiphany Ferrell
The doctor told her it wasn’t exoskeleton. “Melanoma can hide in surprising places,” she said.
The Fourth Wall by Kim Hagerich
My neighbor broke the fourth wall. It started innocently enough when we both found ourselves on our verandas watering the plants and she asked about the music we were playing inside.
A Glass of Wine by Cristina Fernandez Valls
She was having a glass of wine. The bottle was on the table, almost empty. Despite the smell of alcohol on her breath, she looked cold like a marble statue.