by Nayt Rundquist

“Juniper was lost, but not hopelessly. She wandered the cool dark of the forest, focusing all her attention on the stretch between her shoulder blades that rippled with frigid electricity when spirits were near.”

by JB Malory

“Several sections of the ancient prison’s labyrinthine basement had flooded, forcing the warden to shuffle prisoners to the upper floors, putting five men in cells meant for four. Uncertainty hung in the air, and a cramped, oppressive tension made the inmates yearn for a rare glimpse of the outside world.

by Shaharzad Warkentin

“A blinding light disrupts the dark. At first, I think I am staring into the moonlit sky, but as I sit up my fingers find the worn velour of our familiar couch beneath me. The brightness dulls, taking the shape of a rectangle. The television is still waiting for an answer to its Socratic question….”

by Grace Raidan

“Some nights, I watch the cat back from inside my apartment, staring at its unblinking yellow eyes. When the night gets so dark that I can’t see the outline of the cat anymore, I begin to think about the skin on my knuckles, the lines of my palms.”

by Pavle Radonić

“For some light entertainment the night before there had been the cricket broadcast from South Africa for the finale to the series. The radio seemed right at this former British bastion.”

by Cooper Clarence

“A gust of breeze blew through the window and ruffled her hair and pushed her dress against the backs of her legs, billowing it out in the front. When it died the fabric fell back again. She saw me looking and smiled, her black eyes sparkling and wet with the remains of her tears.”

by Yaron Dotan

“Abraham didn’t know how to make your wife love you. He didn’t know how to make your kids do right. And fixing the ozone? But he could help you choose the best easy chair for your tired bones.”

by Kendra Augustin

“The baby stares into your eyes like it has something to say. Does it have something to say or do staring contests just come naturally to babies?”

by Mitchell Ny

“Hup hup. Feel your chest expand. When it’s all-the-way full, take two more little sips and hold. Count to three. And whoosh—let it all out. Imagine your lungs shriveling like raisins.”

by Indigo Carter

“The female octopus lashes as she spreads her webbing sharp and sudden…She bites and the venom is numbing all over. I am disoriented. I am dizzy. I am hearing Isabella but am unable to make out her words because they are not in my language.”

by Tarah Burrows

“Tupelo trees slumber in a stagnant river, sentinels dozing under a net of stars. A portrait of idleness, they loom undisturbed. Stoic.”

by Albert Rodríguez

“It happened almost eight months ago, but the details were not sufficient for the public.  I’ll give you nothing but the facts. People said it was another flare-up in the so-called culture wars, which is a phrase that manages, with peculiar efficiency, to obscure more than it reveals.”

by Ioana Barbulescu

“I’ve been unwell for days. It’s the blood moon, my husband jokes, and I wonder if chewing on his liver would quench my anemic thirst.”

by Brittany Pike

“…as long as something listens—be it whale or human or machine—the ocean will remember us all.”

by Mick Theebs

“‘Yeah, well if you think my ego was big before, just wait. It’s not every day someone achieves enlightenment you know.’”

by Brian Washines

“I took the radio out onto the balcony and tossed it. When it hit the parking lot it went into what appeared to be three separate pieces. Someone in one of the other apartments across the street laughed.”

by Daniel Sheen

“‘I’m scared,’ I whisper, my voice trembling as the first celestial streak appears from over the horizon…can still see their polished brightness reflected in his black-water eyes. Painfully beautiful. The boiling sky veined with the fiery tails of a dozen artificial comets.”

by Michael Fontana

“Back in 1978, Petey-Petey shook his tambourine at me. …The tambourine made him seem like a musician when he was just another beggar.”

by Catherine Dean

“Let’s just say that if Plato’s Republic contained a perfect form for a bad mother, you might be it…A classic filiophage, like in Medea, like in The Brood. At least Medea knew how to create a beautiful table.”

by Ken McRae

“I met Charon in the breakroom. He was standing in front of all three vending machines. He stooped slightly so his head didn’t hit the ceiling...His left arm displayed a fierce snake tattoo, with scarlet eyes and long, sharp fangs. His skiff pole leaned against the wall.”