Stories Archive - Page 7 of 26

Latest Stories

Open Wound

Leticia Urieta

It was clear from its inscription that the knife was indestructible. “Nor will I break or bend, except to the end of time,” I read aloud, holding it up to the light in our gloomy garage. Ramon found it clearing out some of his father’s boxes after the funeral. He decided only to keep three […]

Mine

Keshe Chow

It’ll be one of those nights. I can tell. I can always tell. Firstly, it has to be the right time of night. Late enough, but not so late for the drink to have truly set in. There will have been just enough alcohol to fuel the fire but not enough to completely incapacitate. Secondly, […]

Blood Flees Our Mouths

Elliot LeGrange

Clay County, Illinois April 4, 2017 My whistling dies on my tongue the second a familiar scream rips through the trees. It comes again before I’ve extricated myself from the briars of the Ghost Woods’ treeline, and dropping my school library copy of Of Mice and Men and a ziplock baggie of foraged morels, I […]

In The Deep, We Find The Stars

Cassiopeia Gatmaitan

The sea off Dapit-Hapon holds untold magic. That much I’ve always known. When I was small enough to fit in the crook between her lap and her belly, Mama would tell me of the enchanted waters and the secrets they hold, her golden shell necklace warm against my cheek as she spoke of the sirena […]

In Space…

M.K. Norhawk

The first time Annabelle’s son overdosed, there had been an outpouring of support. For her. For him. A community. The first time Annabelle’s son went to rehab, there had been check-in texts, casseroles dropped at the door, stories of recovery and hope. The first time Annabelle’s son relapsed, there were friends clucking maternal platitudes, invitations […]

Exploding Head Syndrome

A.P. Thayer

“Mine.” The word claws me away from the consoling tentacles of dreams, and I’m wide awake, sitting bolt upright on the couch. I hunt for the source of the sound. The apartment is completely silent. My chest is heaving as I gulp down air. My blood is rushing in my ears. But there’s no one […]

This is Where the Truth Stops

Dylan Kwok

At dinner on the third day, Nate looks up from his plate and asks the question. “Why did you die?” It is the first time he has opened a conversation since Em arrived. For the last three days, he has communicated mostly in monosyllables and glances, only speaking in sentences if he has to give […]

The Portal in Andrea’s Dryer

Katherine Karch

“Thanks for coming,” Andrea says as she steps aside to hold the door for Laura to come in. Her friend shrugs out of a powder blue fleece jacket and drops it over one of the kitchen chairs. Andrea passes her a Wonder Woman mug of Volcanica Free Range Kopi Luwak, the best coffee she has. […]

String

Joseph Moldover

The string pulled taut at three AM. Bobby was facing the other way, the sleeping bag corkscrewed down to his feet. Joel lay very still, watching his brother’s shoulders rise and fall, looking at the soft fuzz on the edge of Bobby’s ear illuminated in the light from the fish tank. Then he gently traced […]

Salt Girl

Angela Liu

The sand garden glowed eeriest during the hour right after sundown, like the earth itself was churning out its last breath. For as long as Rika could remember, her father dragged a wooden rake across the reddish sand every morning as the sun rose and again in that uncanny twilight before he prepared dinner. […]

To Join a Brotherhood

MM Schreier

Inge woke, her heart fluttering. Peaceful sounds drifted through the longhouse. A swaddled toddler cooed in his sleep, and someone grunted before rolling over to snuggle deeper into their pallet. The familiar scents of smoke, honey mead, and warm bodies filled the air. Everything appeared as it should. Hvat? Strange. Drawn by an unseen force, […]

The Nightmare, And All Those Who Love Her

Brandon R. Chinn

She’s bending the strings of her third song when the soldiers’ eyes needle across her synthetic skin. They’ve stopped; they never stop, not here. If they’re hoping she might lose her fingering, that she might tilt her head out of fear or supplication, that her song might be cut short by their mere presence—no. Fuck. […]

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