Unexpected Showers by Tobi Alfier

  · Unexpected Showers · by Tobi Alfier   The rain, oh so sweetly on the roof— sound of imagination, shutter-snap of camera recording hills and mist, a family in happier times in parkas and smiles, razors of droplets caught by trees, no wind to rip chunks off desert-baked skin, tender and gentle.   A…

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A Birthday Letter by Zoë Wells

· A Birthday Letter · by Zoë Wells   One day I’ll meet you in the streets of south London Twenty years from now When all this is long   Said and done, saying how Strange it is the way time flies. We’ll get coffee anyhow   In a small café, avoiding eyes Like you…

We Are Still Here

It's been a little quiet here lately, and for that I apologise. Running a lit mag, and live events, with a team of one can often be overwhelming, and sometimes frustrating, but I am planning for the future. I have a couple of great pieces to share very soon, as well as launching a writers…

Santa Baby by Meg Sefton

· Santa Baby · by Meg Sefton   There is a man I see from the dating site I call Santa. He calls me Cupcake even though I asked him from the beginning to call me by my given name. He did once, in a text, but ever since, it’s been “Doll” or “Cupcake.” I…

“There are worse things than a dead kid,” I think, by Alexis Rhone Fancher

· “There are worse things than a dead kid,” I think, · by Alexis Rhone Fancher when I hear the latest, secondhand, about my niece. My sister no longer mentions her when she calls, and I’m afraid to ask, afraid my sister will crumble. I have watched her decline mirror that of her daughter’s; each…

‘Christmas Morning’ by Catherine Arra

· Christmas Morning · by Catherine Arra   We teeter at the top step wait while you stretch one arm and groan the other arm yawn, wrap yourself in the terry robe, the shock of your Elvis pompadour awry, licks of black fire crowning olive skin, round Roman eyes. We wiggle and whine, “C’mon Daddy, hurry…

Gill, Massachusetts by Carla Drysdale

· Gill, Massachusetts · by Carla Drysdale We must live here for now, in the interstitial yet formative surprise to the moment of next surprise when the dog presents its friendly self. A boat plows the lake, leaving a white rippled arrow in its wake. Places of the interstitial to enter into— a place of…