Issue #15
He Sings by Marcela Fuentes

Tunde calls Elisa between ten and eleven o’clock at night, from his second job, the group home where he is paid to sleep on a living room sofa.

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New and Selected Mountains by Matt Sailor

Do you remember the day we met? Fire at the border? The riot in the square? The mountains in the distance blossoming with artillery, the smoke rising into the storm clouds like some ancient spirit finally let loose?

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The Profusion by John Holman

“Look at all these motherfucking leaves!” yelled a man on the street in front of my house.  The man laughed.  “Look at this shit, will you?” 

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Get Your Authentic Stardust Here by JP Relph

The night the sky cracked, I was sprawled on the hood of my car beside that good-for-nothing boy, naming constellations, ignoring his fingers on my neck.

Amelia Earhart Knew Seven Latin Words for Fire by Joe Kapitan

Ignis, the flaming wreckage, bubbling rubber, liquified cloth, her skin charred and blistering, acrid smoke, the tiny thunders of survival’s kicks

Bog Iron by Shane Larkin

We make stops on the way to our bog plot to look at the little skeletons. Dad tells me about them. Curlews and skylarks in dancing poses. Tiny skulls.

I’ll Show You Mine If You Show Me Yours by Eliot Li

I tell you I’ve only ever shown it to a girl who I met on a tour bus in Moscow, where I was traveling with my parents. She had bad acne, and she really liked Duran Duran.

Fulfilling by Fiona McKay

Kate is not ‘imagining it’. There are small tufts of pale fluff on her neck, and no, it’s not ‘just a tissue in the washing machine’ as John suggests. There’s nothing drifting off his shirts, nothing clinging to Ella’s favourite black top, Josh’s Minecraft t-shirts. It’s more solid than tissue, just on her clothes. And only she can see it.