Issue 103 Has Traveled Thru Time to You

Time travel always screws us up. And, really, what is the dawning of a new year if not the crossing of a threshold into the future? A little while ago it was 2018; now it’s 2019 (sans flying cars and replicants, sadly.)

Fortunately, the work in our January Issue speaks clearly, if darkly, of the world as it is and, occasionally, of the world as it should be. There are four wonderful pieces of flash fiction, two cutting pieces of free verse, a steamroller of an essay, a stunning sestina, and an excellent abecedarian.

Let these writers’ words be the balm on your aching head, the cool mint kiss that soothes your anxieties, and the fresh pack of Star Wars cards that makes you feel young, as when the world was new and we just yelled at each in real life instead of over a series of interconnected processing nodes. (Personally, we would’ve preferred flying cars.)

Who knows what 2019 will bring any of us, but if it’s anything like the writing in Issue 103…maybe it’ll be okay.

Alka it online or Seltzer the PDF.

Pushcart Time!

We will be launching a new issue in January, but in the meantime, please enjoy our nominations for this year’s Pushcart Prize:

Gavin Broom, “The First Week in July

Calvin Celebuski, “A Legend Is Born

Daniel Galef, “The Lady of the House

Frances Klein, “Socrates the Frog

We are thrilled to put these fantastic stories and poems up for consideration, and also to have had the opportunity to share them with you. All of the pieces are quite short, which makes them perfect for reading aloud to a weirdo you love.

Merry happy, everybody. Here’s hoping the new year brings many strange and wonderful things your way.

Guess what just dropped into your pumpkin hole?

Mr. Punkincheeks, Devourer of Souls (and Snickers)

Welcome to issue One Hundred Two. The pieces in these pages share a contemplative tone, reflecting on the past, evaluating the present, and speculating on what is yet to come. Gavin Broom returns with a lovely and subtle seaside story, and C. M. Donahue imagines a lunar adventurer’s final moments in free verse. Heather Santo‘s flash fiction explains how science and art collaborate in the realm of the beyond. Askold Skalsky‘s sonnet explores the distance between desire and reality, and Emily Williamson‘s blank verse poem turns a landfill into a time machine. And if it’s straight-up horror you’re looking for, Predra6 has you covered with this month’s cover art.

Unwrap it online or savor the .pdf.