Slash Magazine Contributor

Written By: John Grey Seven crows on a tree branch, seven monks with keen eyes and bowed heads, seven undertakers in wind-blown black coats.

Written By: John Grey The woman in the room blurts out  how much she misses me. But the man has nothing to say. He barely knows who I am.

Written By: John Grey Even this far north, I would rather the winds came from even farther north.

Written By: Allison Hummel “Shut the curtains, Nella, it hurts.” Camille shifted on the sofa and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. Her hand trembled slightly, resting against her sternum.

Written By: Danielle Bauman I used to be a dreamer. Your classic wish upon a star kind of daughter. Little girls are full of so much hope until the real world drains it out of them.

Written By: Paul Grammatico Another Saturday at Liam's Grandad Rowan's house, they watched his seanathair's favorite game—Irish hurling—on the flatscreen.