After That, Try This:
by Christiana Louisa Langenberg
Stare at your reflection in the storefront window. She looks familiar, you think.
I Will Tell You This Much, and Then We’ll Never Talk About It
by April Ford
The flashbacks are harder to handle now that spring’s almost here. They strike when I can’t easily get back to my pandemic bubble of myself and two cats.
Towel Racks
by Wilson M. Sims
And then I was buying gas station beers and cigarettes, because for some reason I wasn’t supposed to show up to rehab sober.
Paper Nests
by Laurel Miram
Pale yellow pads are best. They contrast well with black Sharpies. No one can miss a bumblebee.
Letter to My Coroner
by Christina Litchfield
We meet on a Monday. You hate Mondays because the weekend means car accidents and those are often tricky and unpleasant.
It all began around a campfire…
Beautiful language
is meant to be heard as well as read, and in fact words were vocalized eons before they were ever committed to clay or parchment. Storytelling began around campfires. We seek prose and poetry that continue the tradition.
Contributor Spotlight:
Love and Hot Chicken
by Mary Liza Hartong
Open Contests
by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review