Issue 15.2 – Fiction

You know everything now: names of animals, flowers, trees; how to do chores. You can reach the clothesline and run errands and learn anything you copy down in your theme book. You’re twelve, but you haven’t got a mother to explain what’s coming. When you first started to swell up top, you thought you had…

Issue 15.2 – Poetry

Dear Mom: Remember when you used to tuck me in? White and pink crocheted blanket Nestled in next to the soft black cat Bedtime stories, wait! One more, please. Please?   Remember those fights we used to have? We screamed at each other Doors were slammed, shattered You didn’t understand my hormones And I didn’t…

Serial – Little River: Vol 2 – Ch 15

The knock on the door made Lexi feel like being sick. She left her lesson plan on the kitchen table, and started to answer the door. Before she made it out of the kitchen, Sidney flew past her and threw the door open. Lexi leaned against the doorway into the hall and watched her sister…

Issue 15.1 – Fiction

She listened to the rattling of their shackles and the sobbing of Prisoner 940 in front of her. His bawling had started hours ago when the guards put them on the bus: three men and her, with twice as many guards. They had been instructed not to make noise. She supposed crying didn’t count. She…

Issue 15.1

re- pair me with you again even though we have left pieces of us in our wake and each time we glue us back together the edges are askew But we can fill the gaps with who we have become Perhaps we will still fit together imperfectly Living in Singapore, India-born Uma Venkatraman is a journalist with…

Issue 14.5 – Fiction

Their father was a photographer who took pictures of Cuba, mostly cars. Blue Chevrolets against backdrops of scarred yet colorfully painted apartment buildings.  TIME magazine published several of them in the early eighties and the paycheck was substantial enough to afford his getaway. He left them in the middle of the night. Sarah and her…

Issue 14.5 – Poetry

I went to the spot —stood there— trying to remember why I vowed never to return.   It had been so dark in my memory, musty and in my lungs like pneumonia. I never thought the room would be sweet tasting ever again.   But standing there, where it happened, I knew it wasn’t the…

Serial – Little River: Vol 2 – Ch 14

Mary stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing her coffee cup, when she heard someone yelling outside. Never one to shy away from her neighbors’ antics, she pulled open the kitchen door a crack, expecting to hear the latest episode of the Lutrell’s marital woes. Instead, she heard her young neighbor calling, “Taylor, come back here!”…

Microwork – Sirens

sirens soaked in their presence, their collective irrationality – dripping soft, flowing, allured. Grace Alice Evans is an emerging poet based in Staffordshire, UK. She is currently studying a BA (Hons) in English and Creative Writing at Staffordshire University, and have been previously published in Inside the Bell Jar, the HCE Review, ENCLAVE, and the…

Issue 14.4 – Nonfiction

While waiting in the car line to pick up my daughters from school on Friday, an idea pops into my head: I will treat them to after-school cookies from the nearby bakery. I debate with myself about this thought, because I’m in a cycle of frugality, feeling like I contribute little, only consume, being the…