by Paul BurgessWhen rustic Old MacDonald had a farm, the city people thought it was so cute. They praised the place’s humble rural charm and loved to hear the farmer play the flute  for animals to joi...

by Catalina Bonati1.75/ 5 stars ★★☆☆☆To the East of the East by Ping Lu and translated by Jeremy Tiang (to be published October 2026) is a translated literary fiction novel about Min-Hui, a Taiwanese ...

by Aries CidThe perfect locale:outside this mansion,across the ghost townare phantasmal graveswith spirits unbound; the perfect weather:an overcast night,striking keraunoús,and a biting squallwhere psyches are soothed; and the perfect prep:a half-pint raincoat,a humble flashlight,and human-made snacksfor shadows so bright. But it’s confounding;upon departing,I descry myselfsleeping on red rain,remaining unfelt.

by Daniel RabuzziLong Ghost Long ghost in a short bodypulled all the bones together,ribcage made a locker,femoral pickets kept intruders at bay.           Manticorean hunger unsateduntil somewhere pas...

by Shrishti TrivediHaven The palest fogs in hues of haze alighton sunshower’d sweeps of rory heatherat rest beneath a songbird's soaring flightbeyond horizons, free of tether.A glint in green, it beck...

by Deborah SpauldingIn Loch Ness lore, upon its banks there came a lovely ladwith golden hair and sparkling eye, in tartan he was clad.And with his mates he romped and played with nary such a care;their laughter could be heard as far as Inverness, they swear.They’d lay upon the sun-warmed sand and climb the rocks ashoreand wade in pools left by the rain and scamper then some more.But never would they enter in, the Loch was ever banned.The kelpies there were legend but they could not live on land

by Catalina Bonati3.25/5 stars ★★★☆☆Dead Teenagers by Jude Ellison S. Doyle and Caitlyn Yarsky (published March 2026) is the first comic in a five-comic installment. It centers on a group of four friends who go to prom in 1997, and are horrifically killed that night. This night resets at its end into a continuous loop of horrors in which the killings change every night and become increasingly gory. The friend group tries to figure out what is keeping them caged in this time warp and how to conti

by Catalina Bonati3.5/5 stars ★★★⯪☆ The Familiar Dark by Amy Engel (2020) is a small-town winter thriller based in the Ozarks, which follows Eve Taggert as she sets on a quest to discover who murdered...

by Janette SchaferTW: Child sexual assaultThe first time I sat on his lapwas to color in my Santa Fun Bookat Christmas. I never stayedin the lines, threw mywhole body into coloring, leanedon the table...

by Catalina Bonati3.5/5 stars ★★★⯪☆ Tatratea by Alex Woodroe (to be published October 2026) is a short ecohorror post-apocalyptic novella about Errata, a woman who has been trained by The Mothers to f...

by Aleah Bantasthere is a photograph of a girl in a white dressinside an album, kept only by a plastic rackI grew up remembering how to pick cotton,separate the seeds, each one,fruit in search of an e...

Aleah BantasShe heard her name being called,reclining in a daze.A voice said, get up.The heat index climbs past numbers,melting into the sheetslike a wax doll in May.The fat glare opens at heras she s...

Ultramarine Literary Review @ultramarinelitrev.bsky.social ⭐ is open to submissions for Urban Poetry and Nostalgic Stories. #CallforSubmissions

by M. VoidThe sweet rhythm of her smile reminds me that she listened to blue world for me,because of me.I couldn't keep my hands to myself. I kissed girls in bathroomsand took double shots. Her quiet,...

by Robert LowingerI was in the seventh grade, in 1969, living in a little town outside of Buffalo, New York when me and Danny Nissen, who was almost 15, threatened to beat the crap out of Larry McKoon...

por Uğur OlgarLa luna ilimitada brilla con más intensidad en rostros envejecidos,atando su cinturón celestial a las arrugas de la frente,mientras las faldas de la oscuridad se encienden en la noche bl...

Michael Lee JohnsonLife, a ripe apple—Red Delicious,rumor of hell,bittersweet to the core.If you can taste it with& chew it with false teeth. Most friends have vanished—ghosts slipping beyondshadowed,...

by Brian HawkinsI can imagine us lying in the sand at the lake, your toes tracing memories around discarded bait buckets and cigarette butts. I close my eyes to see you loosen your top as you turn your back to the sun while I open my book and pretend not to read, sneaking peaks at the edgesof your small breasts over, under, and around the empty pages. You glance at me and smile, reaching out to touch my hand, but only for a moment so that your tan will be even there, too.I imagine that I imagine

by T.J. Maslukfor KafkaIn the wards,sleep Gurdjieff would appreciate.Have I awakened in a dark wood?In streets and narrow alleyways,by light of a ragged moon,noctambulists shuffle aboutunredeemed,fugu...

by Khadeeja Bilqeesthe epitome of culinary artmy mother told meand you can never cook welltill you have mastered the art ofletting the meat simmer tillit embraces the flavortill the excess evaporatess...

by Sara Etgen-Baker"You gotta have a ticket to ride!” snapped the Carney. “Get a ticket or move outta da way, kid. You’re takin’ up space!”I stared motionless as the Ferris wheel cut through the heavy...

Sara Etgen-BakerAfter Granny died, Mother requested only one item from her mother’s possessions. “All I really want,” Mother told my uncle, “are her old recipe cards and antique file box.” Mother’s re...

by Sara Etgen-BakerI stepped off the back porch and approached Fritz’ house which was nestled beneath his favorite spot under the shade of my family’s sprawling pecan tree. Using our shared German lan...

by Janette Schaferafter Byron HootEveryone is both the wandererand the one waiting at home.Home: a place, people I cherish,God, longingsof my heart.Memories:stories we carry, regretswe forgive,a recor...

by Ashley MangtaniI sit in his chair, and it still holds his shape. The little arrow drifts across the screen and settles on a folder. I open it. Inside the folder is one file. I lean forward until my...

by Larry KilmanThe trees shade the street this time of year, dappling the pavement,and the façades are like cut glass deep in the afternoon.This is how I will remember it, drinking it deep,a last walk...

by Michael BrockleyCombine one cup of softened butter, one cup of powdered sugar, two cups of sifted flour, one cup of ground nuts, and one teaspoon of vanilla Your family kept a small, wooden nativit...

by Patrick RolandI saw a prophet on the sidewalk.Nineteen degrees. Wind like a whip.Shirtless, rooted,as if nailed to the concrete.Not young enough for dares,not poor enough for pity.A bag of clothes ...

by Steven VisintainerA reflection on the New York City subways - 1990s.And outside, as a child, above the grate, the steam would rise,and my grandmother would say there were devils down there.And year...

by Huina ZhengWhile looking for the household registration booklet, I found a White Rabbit candy tucked into the deepest corner of a drawer. The wrapper was yellowed, oil seeping through the paper unt...

by Christopher Dąbrowski A starving bear crept into town.At the sight of him, people fled, screaming."What a pity I'm not a teddy bear. They would not be afraid," murmured the disappointed predator. "...

by Catalina Bonati2/5 stars ★★☆☆☆The Man in the Watch Still Visits Me at Night by Joshua Chaplinsky (to be published September 2026) is a multiple timeline horror story about Jenna and her boyfriend B...

by Kenneth Kapp“Honest, Mom, they were just being nice to me. You said yourself how nice their garden was. And we’re always getting those seed packages in school, two cents each, and if we could grow ...

by Bruno TalericoAlone,he enters the privileged atmosphere:cigarette haze thick with laughterpunctuated by fat silences.Communal intoxication, boisterous banter,in darker corners, hushed intimacies.Cl...

by Christopher StolleI’ve put the kettle onfor a cup of tea. I’ve found a Jethro Tullplaylist on Spotify. I’ve left all my poetry bookson bookshelves back home. Here, where water and leavesand sugar a...

by Melissa GiordanoMy cat moves with dissolute finesseLouche and savageWith subtle muscles and bones That are locked into a furtive anatomy.The hunter’s prowl of my goddessIs driven by far-flung insti...

by Kheraden PerumalNight gathers over the marina.Yachts drift against their moorings,white hulls rocking in the black water.Bass carries across the harbour,glassware flashing beneath blue and violet l...

by Stephen BarilePa' Ashi(‘big water’ in Yokut language) The end of the world camewhen the sky turned black,the sun eradicated.A roar overtook the ear,flapping wings by the billion;millions upon milli...

by Kenneth KappIn Long Beach there were days in October when the ocean pretended that no one was looking, sending waves one after another to crash into the shore. Running smoothly, they unfurled their...

by Mehreen AhmedHow a mother pretends to love her own children depends on her manipulative nature. To pretend, when there is no love? How does one do that? Anxiety fills me up when my little girl is i...

by Frank William FinneyThe pub, half-full on a Tuesday night.A songster sang acoustic blues,but soon the strings slipped out of tune,and then the mike went on the blink.I lost the mood – left tip and ...

by Samya JayachandranElijah Varghese collected broken seashells. Not the shiny, whole ones tourists picked for souvenirs, but the fractured ones. The kind that looked like they’d survived something. H...

by Kerry TrautmanThe Places We Crawl IntoAs a home inspector, I shimmy underfloorboards on dirt that foundations have claimed, and its centipedes and seep.On vacation, I wander Manhattan street grids ...

by Josh TecklinE. S. Shrunken fugue, becoming Called good-lookingwatchful of the small world, when I'm ulcered and emaciated,clogged-eye with my cheekspressurized, ...

by Suman Mondalits almost unfeasible to writeabout the memoirs of my pastsome fragments are pale and dimothers still rove inside my headnow if you ask me tell us somelike a meanderthese broken pieces ...

by Michael SmithOut on the crumbs of Sardinia in islands of ungraspable skill, lies the dying art of byssus still --Weaving garments out of hard clam spit, like writing reems with merely water -- Pose...

by Paul BavisterWe formed a team for the quizthat played to our strengths:geography, politics and film. We called out to the quizmaster,who shuffled his papers under a slow-turning fan.Then he started...

by Kirsty NivenIf we leave the windows open at night, we can hear the chaos of the city playing outlike the sea captured in a seashell. The wash of the cars on gushing roads, the serenading of un-spay...

by Malkeet KaurHad Alina scrolled to the end of the agreement, she might have paused at the phrase “lifetime strategic partnership,” puzzled by how it echoed a job offer more than a love story.But she...

by Malkeet KaurSirens flare, slicing the morning open,their wail flooding the city.Metal throats spill grief,red lights bleedingacross windows and skin.We watch how quickly life slips away,no warning,...