Issue 10.1 – Fiction

A hedge reared up and Sarah braked hard. She swung the steering wheel, skidding through the turn and almost plunging the car into a ditch. She should slow down. She couldn’t see a bloody thing on the unlit lane. Branches clawed at the door as she bucked and bounced. The chassis groaned. She hadn’t even…

Issue 10.1 – Poetry

The moon Wears her craters like you Wear your stretch marks. Like war paint As though asteroids and debris isn’t constantly crashing Into her skin As if on most days, even when she is whole She is only seen as a fraction Hanging in blackness As if her dark side isn’t easy to forget  …