Non-Contest Submissions: “Desire” (Issue 75) UPDATE: We have re-opened non-contest submissions for fiction, nonfiction and poetry for the next two weeks, until Saturday, November 10th, 2018. Submit! Contest Submissions: “Desire” (Issue 75) Submission Period: September 24th – November 5th Finalist Judges: Jo Ann Beard – Nonfiction Contest Nicole Walker – Flash Prose
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In the ten-second video, the praying mantis tries to fit its own head back on, connected by a slimy white stem. In the dorm room, I memorize the laminate earthquake plan that
Humanity (a loose brick) Dislodged a brickfrom the cathedralof Salamanca Humanism —that was dodgy— Took that brick homeput it on the mantlestuffed it in the closet —that was freaky— Then took the
What If Hermaphroditus Let Salmacis Stay Part of Them Because that They had come to think⠀⠀of weight against the body as a kindnessThey were gifted—that undisputed They.⠀⠀Because it was a body scores
On the morning of his death, Dumont is late. We don’t blame him—we like Dumont. There’s no denying he has a sweetness to him, an inviting, innocent smile that’s not worth murdering.
Christmas, blue lights refract through the wetwindshield. Us, in the backseat,while my brother drives through the richestneighborhood in Orange County. It’s tradition.From the passenger, my sister says,Who’s the white girl?I don’t know
My reptile mother birthed a reptile daughter – cold-blooded, always chasing sunlight. The weather turns a screw in a fractured femur, and wrenches me rheumatic with the foresight of
Bless the man who dismounted an elliptical just as a song blaring from a far room of the gym ended.His timing was perfect, to know when he poked his sweaty head
A few weeks before your wife left you wentferal, showed up to the houses of friendsaround dinner time, and I was out front pulling tearthumbto put in a banana tree I’d traded
In 6th grade, a small group of boys started carrying around little, red laser beams on keyless keyrings. They were small enough to fit in the palm of the boys’ hands.
My knees pop and crackle like a fireplace as I kneel at her feet on the carpeted floor. I flinch—my body suddenly feels too crooked, too misshapen to be here.She smiles like redemption,