By day, she sprinkled into the river alfalfa blossoms and quail feathers and hollow flutes of cattails and tiny shells and smooth skipping stones—offerings to protect her family—chanting incantations of please please please.
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Kingdom Phylum Class by Kara McMullen
I’ll release it amongst my mother’s hollyhocks and tomato plants and watch it shudder away through the grass, feeling like some dark corner of myself is going with it. I’ll resume my search for something lethal.
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Alpha Romeo Fifteen by Quintan Ana Wikswo
We box in the park and when we hit, our first faces crack and shatter. Underneath, now, I see his second face. Narrow and deep.
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The Nightfly by Libby Cudmore
She poured coffee from her thermos and pulled herself closer to the microphone as her cue neared. 'Nina the Nightfly here, with tunes to get you through the long dark night. My lines are open, so call me up and tell me what's on your mind. I bet I've got a song that'll fit how you're feeling.'
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Pigeons, Again by Hannah Gregory
A pigeon. The LED on its collar blinks. Kendra cups its body the way she holds her coffee to warm her hands. The message tied to its leg is unanswered.
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Filet-O-Fish by Wynne Hungerford
We had become fish in time. I smelled my shirt. It smelled like fish, like fry. It smelled like where we had been.
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Stinktown by Matthew Goldberg
In Stinktown, we scavenged for trash. That was our big industry. We’d sift through huge mounds of garbage, searching for stuff we could use for trading purposes.
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The Students by Harrison Cook
At recess we didn’t move our feet on the playground. What was the point? Some of us rubbed the tattoo under our arms like chimps, or rubbed the spot just above the belt line, scratched the back of our shoulders where wings would grow.
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Hot Shit by Amy Kiger-Williams
We walked around the neighborhood like the queens that we were. We licked our fingers and touched our asses. Our fingertips sizzled the moment they hit the denim. We smoked cigarettes behind the shed, then took long showers and brushed our teeth, even our tongues, to get the smell off.
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The Shark Catchers by Margaret Redmond Whitehead
The men believed they were the shark. They saw it as a mirror: on one side, power taut behind silvery skin; on the other side, hard teeth inside predator’s mouths. Their incisors were remnants of a shark-life. The slick of their lips were meant for water.
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Banished to a World Without Magic by Annie Tupek
Gone. The farm was gone, too. And the castle. All that remained were his vague memories of that other life and his magical self that had lived it. That missing self knew his fairy godmother.
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The Playground at Night by Nick Story
They had never had a playground like that. They had had to work from a young age and played with rocks and sharp pieces of wood. Their lives had been hard, and it was difficult to see children whose lives were so lucky.
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We Had A Superhero by Brian Druckenmiller
He stood tall. His posture and leotards emphasized incredible physicality, as if his muscles’ muscles had muscles. With his hair slicked back and chin held high, he oscillated, projecting zero visible confusion—the antithesis of our expression.
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Mornings Are The Hardest by Sarah Terez Rosenblum
Does the girl’s desperation feed the thing’s obstinance? Years ago someone (one of the experts?) told the girl that she’s in control; she has choices. But how can that be when occasionally , no matter which button the girl pushes, the thing takes actions paradoxical and perverse?
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Ghosts-4-Hire by Michael Colbert
I found the flyer outside the grocery store. Feeling lonely? Ghosts for hire! I would’ve thought it was a prank if I hadn’t been seeing ghost children helping the elderly check expiration dates on bagged granola or deceased personal trainers floating alongside runners, cheering them on.
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Dream Mother by Andrew Bertaina
She wasn’t listening. My mother had always been a wonderful listener. Now that she was dead and only a part of my dreams, mother had a bit of a foul mouth and didn’t listen well.
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Vinegar Instead of Blood by Don Malkemes
The beets knew what they were doing; Kimbark was patsy perfect. He was a visitor in his father’s house, which was a remarried house with a new mom, new brother, and fruits and vegetables.
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Florence, Yesterday Evening, Dusk by Jill Witty
Among the many Monti possessions, all belonging to the Contessa, none was so highly prized as the Palazzo Principio, a magnificent Renaissance building that sat along the Arno, a stone’s throw from the Ponte Vecchio. Beautifully restored and as large as an entire city block, the Principio was said to be the most valuable privately-owned building in all of Florence.
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Cake by Anthony Varallo
Time passed. The boy grew older. Taller. Able to reach all the way inside the freezer whenever he felt like it, which wasn’t often. Most of the time, he could find whatever he wanted in the refrigerator.
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Little Pelvic Bone by Jessica Fordham Kidd
The mother bit the very tiniest tip off the snake’s tail. It tasted metallic and felt tough between her teeth. Then, she tossed the snake into a stand of privet hedge.
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