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3 flash fiction pieces by Carter Meyer
Two Friends Talk on Facebook “I can’t stand being here.” “I can’t stand being.” "Facebook Friend" (photo by Flickr user Andrew Sorensen) False Truths and Fake Promises She glances at my bandaged wrists, then looks away. “You could’ve talked to me,” she whispers. I
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Read these books, or die trying
Recently, I joined WriteByNight’s online book club, an awesome alternative to meeting up face-to-face with fellow literary nerds to talk books. Their January selection was Pym, a book I have yet to finish thanks to my reviewing
3 poems by William Wade
New Muse Tonight it seems that I just cannot find two words that rhyme Damned Erato, fickle bitch I’ll show you what is which Out with you like worn-out shoes I’ve found myself another muse One who likes me and comes when I call This one’s not like you at all No, not like you at all, at all My
Stories from “Cabin” by Louis Marvin
The Attack of the Mad Ax Man “Watch the attack of the mad ax man” —Michael Schenker Group He sat in his lawn chair, in front of his cabin, with birds singing and wind whispering the needles of his pines. He had on boots, Levi’s and a lumberjack shirt. He had one leg straight, and one bent
3 poems by Louis McKee
STATE’S WITNESS Maybe I was talking too much. Maybe I let it slip– I knew somebody, somebody who could get things done. St. Brigid, go gcuidímid. I guess I used to say it, dropping names, and I heard this one from my grandmother; she
The Other One Percent by William Burns
I don’t want to pay back my student loans. I don’t like foreclosures. I’m against police brutality. But how do you get from protest to sweet talk? How do you move the conversation from Wall Street to the bedroom? It took some trial and error, but I eventually realized that what works at a bar does
3 poems by Jacqueline Nha Pham
Flor de Muerto The last time we saw Feliciana, she was on the cover of Suicide Girls, fully nude, a tattooed silhouette with a hand-scripted neck piece that reads: “Ich Bin, Je Suis, I am.” She was my favorite sobrina. The altar is full of Aztec marigolds, from sugared skulls to candied pumpkin, and
Writer’s Cell Block by Dana Kabel
Originally published at A Twist of Noir Pete woke up kissing cold concrete and his head felt like it was splitting in half and the bottle of whatever he drank the night before was trying to crawl out. “What
Voodoo Country, an excerpt from Rum Socialism by Kris Romaniuk
This week we bring you an excerpt from Kris Romaniuk‘s rebellious new ebook, Rum Socialism. You can score a copy on Amazon
3 poems by Mather Schneider
Idiots Who Could Spit A lot of people live out in the sticks in the middle of the desert with tons of elbow room and fresh air and the stars raining down every night. Many of these country people think there is something wrong with me for living in the city, that I am naive and could never hack it living
