Latest Submissions
September 12, 2018
The Short, Mediocre Life of David Foster Wallace
On this day ten years ago, David Foster Wallace went into his garage, tied a noose, slung it around his neck, and kicked the chair away. The literary…
September 11, 2018
The Learning Question
Sitting at a two-people table, watching more than participating in the noisy office party, she looked up to see a man, drink in hand, pointing to the…
September 11, 2018
The Serpent
“The trap opened in a great big yawn and the light came shining in. Morning. Always one of the worst parts of the day. It’s sticky, stale, and it…
September 10, 2018
“A Place Somewhere,” “Museum Poem,” “Winter Buries Them,” and Other Poems
A Place Somewhere The dream is the same no matter the night. There is a light, weak and blue, over a country house where nothing stirs, not even a…
September 10, 2018
NEET, Part 2
XVIII. When he woke again, it was morning and the house was quiet except for rustling in the kitchen, the drip-drip of the coffee machine, and the…
September 9, 2018
Strange Rain
The memory returned with the speckled goose twenty yards long and a huge raised goose’s bill and face in profile, from the childhood nightmare in the…
September 8, 2018
A Further Conversation
This story is based on Egyptian mythology, Victorian fascination, and Edgar Allan Poe’s short story “Some Words with a Mummy” wherein his mummy…
September 7, 2018
Letters from a Heartbroken Pervert: On Snot
Yes, I mean the snot that comes from your nose. Again, hear me out. It’s cleaner than shit and piss, of course. But more than that, you vanilla folks…
September 6, 2018
My Shining Boy
On a cool breezy autumn night from the house down on the pristine white paved private drive came droves of teenage guests to a Saturday night…
September 4, 2018
Working the Night Shift
Burke hated his job. He was a security guard for Preston Hall, a private institution dedicated to promoting science education at the high school…