Let What Comes Natural Fly

J.D. Hibbitts

Michael saw his brother given over to cockfighting before, but this was new. Cade had a Mclean rooster tethered to an empty cable reel with 550 cord, one hand wrapped around its neck and the other working a pair of hair clippers over his bird’s tail feathers.…

Beauty Shot

Yannick Murphy

Maya had been attacked once. A man had followed her up the stairs of her building and held a long knife to her throat. He made her open the front…

The Endless Moon

A. Molotkov

My ass looms over four stories as I hang backwards out the window, held in that position by two fellow privates in order to relieve myself.…

The New Buoyancy

Stephen Morrow

I didn’t ask to be born, but I would have.
Fact. Don’t get mixed in with the pessimist
nuts. Listen for the second half of the story.…


Federico Falco

The circus came to town and put its tents up on railroad land to one side of the train station. It took them three days.…

In the Belly of the Beast: Andri Snær Magnason’s LoveStar

Vanessa Blakeslee

Andri Snær Magnason is among the most fascinating contemporary Icelandic authors writing today—alongside the popular crime writer Yrsa Sigurðardóttir, the novelist and celebrated lyricist Sjón, the short fiction writer Gyrðir Elíasson, and numerous others not yet translated into English.…

Talk to Her

E.J. Levy

What did they expect? That I was just another captivating face? (I do not say pretty, even my mother did not call me that; she said I would grow into my looks and meet my mate, but he never came—or if he did, I was gone by the time he arrived, already taken.)…

The Plague

Leigh Camacho Rourks

When Cora caught the lawn guy smoking weed in the backyard instead of mowing, she wanted to say something cool, to ask for a drag or a hit or whatever you asked for if you were young and wonderful.…

Sudden Death: A Eulogy

Jacob M. Appel

My great-grandfather, Simon Litman, Latvian immigrant, secular Jew, inept businessman, gifted egg candler, doting father, cigar-smoker and pint-sized omnivore who (at least in family lore) could devour his own bodyweight in gribenes, holds the distinction of being the last of my forbears to drop dead.…


Adam Davies

Sheetman finds it hard to keep roommates. They never understand why he won’t wear clothes like everybody else. …

Music In Motion: If One Of Us Should Fall

Ben Purkert

Forget aspiring to the condition of music—Nicole Terez Dutton’s poetry achieves it. Winner of the 2011 Cave Canem Poetry Prize, If One Of Us Should Fall accompanies a touring musician across a “sprawl of club dates from coast to coast, [a] series of sad motels in pastel disrepair.”…

Sinaia, Romania

Maya Catherine Popa

Corridors of calves      cataract of mountains

lands pulled up by the navel      then abandoned

they say         by a dry
god      on the occasion of a drink.

Such Revenges

Caitlin Fitzpatrick

I try not to think about the fact that my son is dead. I try harder not to remember that his funeral was the sixth time I had ever visited him. …

A Volume of Loss

T Clutch Fleischmann

The opening image of Nan Goldin’s The Ballad of Sexual Dependency is “Nan on Brian’s lap, Nan’s birthday, New York City 1981.” Nan wears pearls and a green dress, her…

Souvenirs: An Excerpt

T. Kira Madden

Aunt Helen comes at night. Slicked hair pulled back into pins, stabbing a knot behind her neck. She says, How you getting along? The Holmes children know she means if…

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