Submissions Submission Guidelines PLEASE READ SUBMISSION GUIDELINES THOROUGHLY AS THEY’VE BEEN UPDATED AS OF SEPTEMBER 1, 2026. Gooseberry Pie Lit Magazine publishes fiction with exactly six-sentences...

Sumitra Singam Listen to Sumitra read her prose poem The Lulu Lemon women talk of Romeo and Juliet between sets of bicep curls because Lovefool comes on over the speakers and they remember studying…

after David Bowie’s “Heroes”This we know: A wall is.A kiss is.And we are kissing still.We hear the drone of a slip cover of a song. Your song.We think: How it shudders, this song, how the wall does — ...

It's that time of the year again! Time for the feral DLP drabble contest! Deadline: Oct 18th midnight Word limit: 100 words Theme: corrupt writing groups/associations (don't use real people's names ...

I didn’t see the loneliest tree in the world reaching out to me that morning, remember the conceptual popsicle stand the color of then that afternoon or hear the lo-fi moon static-crackling on my radi...

“Stay in bed,” I sing to you. A line from our favourite song.“Stay in sheets,” you reply, and we laugh and tumble again, tangle in white cotton.When my breathing slows, I lie back under your arm, eyes...

“And then one fairy night, May became June.”I have always liked that line by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It is the sort of thing you notice only when you pay attention. It is like one day the air changes and...

The waterfall doesn’t care that you’re here.This is the first true thing anyone has told you in years.You drove nine hours. You ate gas station bread. You pissed behind a lava rock that had been cooli...

after David Bowie’s “Heroes”This we know: A wall is.A kiss is.And we are kissing still.We hear the drone of a slip cover of a song. Your song.We think: How it shudders, this song, how the wall does — ...

Lady Jane gropes for the chopping block, her hand as small and delicate as my son’s, onlyhis is hot and sticky and hers looks cool as porcelain.His fingers tighten on mine. “Is she scared?”“It’s just ...

C/W griefFirst, find pockets of time to cry, ideally in situations where no one can ask you what’s wrong. Slice a bunch of onions. Run the water faucet (if your husband bangs on the door, and asks wha...

At night, we search for the darkness. We stumble around inside of ourselves. Someone says they can still see the fireflies, and I think, perhaps, I can still see my lover—pale pink lips.We cannot make...

When Sadie was sick, I used to do puzzles with her. Not with her, exactly. She was too tired to sit up or concentrate much, and the chemo gave her brain fog. But I’d do a puzzle on a card table beside...

I watch as Sammy breathes on the glass, fogs it up. With a finger, he writes BEHIND YOU in the condensation. The bus parks at its next stop, and Sammy, his hoodie hood up so he resembles a ghost, slap...

The midday sun filters through blinds and dust motes as I walk into the empty fencing salle. The noise from the city streets melts into the creak of polished wood and the high- pitched hum of the over...

By Nina Miller

By Nina Miller

Deftly switching between past and present, the seven stories in Lisa Thornton’s We’ll Be Birds have as much to do with memory as anything. In “All God’s Creatures,” an older man loses track of t...

Alt: Door Opening and Closing Animation