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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1. On the rare occasion that Charon went to find Mr. and Mrs. Naaji, he packed his own dented watering-can and walked the long way to the cemetery. He passed Elm Street
Jupiter’s orbit they called it, the path he took nearly every day. He’d start from his little high-stepped house at the farthest end of Duane Street, where the road gets spotty, disappearing
Jameson saw the selkie three times. The first time he was little more than a boy, fifteen and gangly with it, walking along the beach drunk on summer and the rum he’d
He saw a ghost once. Must have been about ten, maybe eleven years old. On nights like tonight, when the ghost was foremost on Brady Scrugg’s mind, he abandoned his apartment for
I. It is the generation of largesse, bangs that yearn to be bouffants like those you see atop your grandmother’s head in old photographs. Your bangs, teased out like a difficult puzzle,
Learn of Her Your father’s mother tells you the story of the being who lives in the bottom of the river. “It’s a river witch,” Grandmother says, “one who guards and protects
Walter brought her to the Sackler Wing the week it opened, the Temple arranged across sparkling, still water. “Remember the mummies?” he said, taking her hand under the slanted wall of glass, the
Winner of the Sonora Review Issue 80 Fiction Contest, selected by Lydia Millet Holly’s pee sounded like voices. She used to think it was just the noise it made hitting the toilet,
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)
Mom thinks a pet would cure my melancholia. I’m not sure. Right now, we’re sitting in her car in the pet store parking lot. She won’t go in because my sister Becca’s