by Lana Lowe

“Headline: Are you finding slivers of metal in your apples? Here’s who to call”

by Mary Thorson

“Sister, I dreamed about a dead rat, and I know no one wants to hear about dreams but listen because this is so important.”

by Swetha Amit

“…it was the ringing phone that kept reverberating in Mira's ears. It made her heart flutter like a trapped bird, and it delved into the fabric of her darkest memory.”

by Sharon Bippus

“We’re two guys past our prime looking for a thrill.”

by Thomas Kopperwas

“Faster and faster he went, until the bike merged into the lucent moonlight; fading to white...”

by McKenna Robison

“I hoped to go through a different hallway that might lead me to the blue door. My heart was pounding, and my limbs were loose and shaky from nerves, but my mind was clear with adrenaline.”

by Enrique De Alba

“The wheels on the bus go round and round. I hummed the song against the window, spinning the world into a blur of green.”

by Jonathan Daniel Gardner

“We sat on one of those molded plastic benches in the quiet wing…The air smelled like citrus cleaner. Every few minutes the ceiling speakers released a single chime. It made me look up, like someone had entered the room.”

by Andrea Marcusa

“Slobbery flesh suddenly crushes my mouth. Cigarette tongue, whiskey and greasy pepperoni breath. He didn’t leave? Why are you here? So heavy. Get off me! Leave!”

by Brooklyn Armstrong

“Darla could no longer feel where she was. Still, she persevered, she ran, until there was nothing. Nothing at all.”

by Gracie Lyle

“Maybe I hadn’t summoned Mitt from the app—maybe I’d made him. Maybe I’d used Tim’s profile as a jumping off point, and then I’d stuffed jpegs with organs. Blown breath into text messages.”

by Chelsea Cutler

“We buried his hand under the willow tree in his back yard. It was an intimate ceremony; Link hadn’t bothered inviting his parents.”

by McKenna Hutchinson

“Late-night baking isn’t just my stress relief anymore, it’s our ritual, a bond forged in sugar, butter, and the soft hum of an oven at three in the morning.”

by Greg McKinney

“the leaf goes unnoticed. Its fading is out of step with the normal order and expectancy of things. It is trapped by the wind…That wind has been blowing since my earliest memories.”

by Holly Redell-Witte

“As soon as she turned away, the mirror laughed a little but without sound.”

by Joe Couture

“Milley, he is certain, is having an affair. There can be no other explanation for her newfound self-care and nymphomaniacal lusting …or for her recent attempt to mask the smell of French fries that has permanently permeated her skin.”

by Anna K. Young

“His eyes have the dull sheen of calico buttons whenever he accidentally makes eye contact. Unflattering freckles dot his pale skin—they’re so washed-out, they look like liver spots. The kid radiates nerd like Chernobyl radiates gamma rays.”

by Patrick Johnston

“And we were drunk like dead men and fell dead like dead men in the dead street.”

by Mae S. Ladle

“The window opened wide, and I perch upon the windowsill like an overgrown owl, tasting each spoonful of oats like a special treat. Silky, buttery almost, nutty. Sweet compote a clear bell on my tongue.”

by Marco Etheridge

“Danny Silva slinks down mean streets, heading for a midnight rendezvous at a bad crossroads. He carries a letter addressed to a dead man, an empty heart, and less hope.”