Kyle Weik The clouds storming in faster. My heart racing as you climbed higher and higher and higher. Your backpack slipping and falling back to earth.

“The day they bomb the art gallery” by Belinda Rowe is a flash fiction with the beating heart of a prose poem. Note certain poetic techniques, such as the well-placed repetition of the “enigmatic s…

Flash fiction by Kik Lodge

Fiction by Skyler Melnick

I like to think I’m quite a positive person, and the start of the year, for me, usually feels like it amplifies that sense of positivity through its inherent newness, the multiple possibilities lying ...

by Matt Kendrick   It’s [sunrise through mist] and I’m sitting with [old woman] in the [kitchen]. My [laptop] is open on the [table] in front of me. [Old woman] is scratching the yellowing [na…

Let’s agree that it was an accident, what happened when the tourist interrupted us choosing our king. All 12 of us boys were climbing on each other’s shoulders, turning our forearms into lances, charg...

There are things that are easier to say in the dark. Things that bubble and ferment inside until we’re drunk with distended stomachs. Exhaustion rolls in like the tide. We beg for sleep and prostra…

I want to scream at you but I know you don’t want to hear it as you wander around the abandoned drug store turned found art showcase, old boxes of meds, the kanji, hiragana, katakana in red, blue, whi...

by Kyle Weik A man smiles at me while browsing Italian sausages, and I instantly get hard. Hopefully Mrs. Lee can’t tell. I adjust my apron and slide her ground pork across the counter. I tell her …

*THE BLUE FROG 1st PLACE WINNER* Introduction by Guest Judge GINA CHUNG In the deeply affecting “Materials Needed,” an adolescent protagonist gradually comes to an understanding of thei…

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Mom’s new boyfriend is breakfast. Coffee breath, ketchup face, sausage fingers. Diner cheap. This new boyfriend, Chad, is eating Frosted Flakes raw. I butter toast and silence scrapes by. I ask him if...

Visit the post for more.

Visit the post for more.

Mom’s new boyfriend is breakfast. Coffee breath, ketchup face, sausage fingers. Diner cheap. This new boyfriend, Chad, is eating Frosted Flakes raw. I butter toast and silence scrapes by. I ask him if...