Fiction
August Contributors
Aditya Bhatia,Cooper Clarence, and Kenton Sage Schmidt
abandoned swimming pools
by Daniel Lukes
“They dumped the corpses in the middle of the pool—a beautiful curvy pool with no flat bottom, but scooped out of the Earth like pistachio ice cream—and set them aflame like a bonfire.”
marine fish casserole
by Karen Walker
“The table became elbow to elbow to elbow, and, to make room, I was shoved to the back of the highest cupboard.”
i am a chocolate hero
by Swapan Samanta
“He was inside something cold. Metallic. Confined. A refrigerator. When he moved his neck, it creaked. Not bone against sinew—but something brittle. Cracked chocolate.”
charlotte’s mirror
by Holly Redell-Witte
“As soon as she turned away, the mirror laughed a little but without sound.”
little love story
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.”
seven uses for parker lamb’s giant head
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.”
funnel
by Stuart Watson
“These babies ain’t been nowhere. And you know what? They ain’t never gonna. ‘Cuz their dad’s white trash. Sweepin’ and moppin’ sawdust all day.”
retrouvez le nuit
by Patrick Johnston
“And we were drunk like dead men and fell dead like dead men in the dead street.”
dawn, are you with me?
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.”
revival tent
by Loren Niemi
“He may have taken me out of the carnival but the carnival was still in me. The devil you know. Church is another kind of razzle-dazzle, but from my earliest days, I chaffed in the pew, choked on the prayers. Even if I could be that revival miracle, why would I?”
a tale of today
by Vincent Barry
“. . .Yes, I suppose you could say I’m a habitué of the subway. Something about the rocking motion of the car keeps my nerves at bay, keeps ’em from twitching and straining . . . What can I tellya? The New York City subway—it flows.”
special delivery
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.”
shelter
by Kris Green
“The cruelty of death is not those involved but of those left behind. Trent’s family is dead. If they had listened, things might have been different, but no. Everyone is gone. He is alone.”
thursday, night
by Olivia Cantadori
“He collected me to him, limb after limb, dragged me together. I would have preferred to stay apart.”
the specifics of scars
by Mikki Aronoff
“As he lay quiet in the dawn of his dying, I pressed my ear against his scar. It sounded like hush. When I brushed my frantic fingers over the thick of its tissue, it almost felt like touching.”
on my mind
by Keith Hinrichs
“As he approached the street entrance to the second-floor apartment, a yellow, tessellated glow appeared, superimposed on his head. The yellow glow reminded Connor of the inside of a spaghetti squash: stringy and overlapping.”
a spiritual death in taiwan
by Frederick Schardt
“Ash jumps ahead toward eternity, thinking he is ending his life, but instead he falls onto the edge of some balcony a few stories below. He is stuck with broken bones, most especially in his back.”
unconventional materials challenge
by Joelle Killian
“Panopticunt serves Executive Realness in her power suit sewn from the leathery hides of the Koch brothers. The fashionista judge yells, “She owns 51% of this meat-packing company!”
disappear near me
by Daniel Bailey
“So thank God I’m drunk and alone again. Whoever reads this, I beg you—laugh at it. Publish it. Or at least Venmo me enough for a burrito and a medium Baja Blast. Because at Tulane, that’s considered financial aid.”
plucking
by KJ Hannah Greenberg
“he paid more attention to the lone tomatillo plant that grew on their kitchen windowsill than to the would-be bounty spreading untidily outdoors.”