Tag / fiction

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  • Hope They Call It Dakota – Cole Hersey

    Morning News 1 There was talk of a shooting that occurred five blocks from Cory’s home last night. Not a mass shooting, but a gunfight between two fellow gang members. Both shooters…
  • The Dolls of 12B – James R. Gapinski

    I. The woman in 12B claims to make living dolls. She sells them online and at flea markets. The dolls are not lifelike, per se. Just living. Alive. They get up and…
  • The One with Francis Ford Coppola’s Nephew – James Drew Siegel

    "So, which one did you decide on?" Taylor's question broke Kirk from his reverie. Kirk had been scrolling through the Nu-Vellum interface for almost an hour, unable to make up his mind.…
  • The Shapeshifting Hawthorn Tree – Chris Wright

    The Hawthorn Tree stands sentinel at the edge of the field; its crooked shape inked against a grey sky. It is the cusp of May and the bloom has frosted the branches…
  • The Red X – David Meischen

    Corpus Christi, Thursday, October 25, 1973 Frank claimed to be sorting out his study. He spent whole days in this space he’d converted from their sleeping porch, his books overflowing out of…
  • We Moved the Earth – Kelly Duarte

    When the kitchen was suspiciously lacking the sounds of popping oil and humming, we silently ventured down the stairs. Our mother caught the rising sun over Lake Isabel, leaning on the porch…
  • Waters Are Rising – Anita Goveas

    First is the beluga whale, a visitor from Greenland. It splashes in the Thames estuary, feeds on bream and gudgeon and scraps thrown from barges. People read about it on websites, flood…
  • The Fisherman’s Wife – Eva M. Schlesinger

    The fisherman and his wife lived in one of the many mustard yellow cottages dotting the fishing village. He chose their home’s location, a cul-de-sac by the boats that lined the harbor.…
  • Telling The Bees – Anita Goveas

    Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the brightness of a September noon. Crows squawked out confusion in half-shorn beech trees, their black mourning coats speckled with glistening drops like diamonds. Gulika dabbed…
  • Holding On – Eva M. Schlesinger

    Quinn shouldn’t have stood on her tippy toes. Her shoulders tensed, zooming to her ears. Her new V-neck tee sporting the colorfully frosted cakes crumpled. She shouldn’t have stared at Margo in…