Fiction

Written By: Hansen Adcock Never eaten cauliflower, it doesn't do anything for me. My grandmother made an excellent thistle soup. Or was it nettles? Never got stung once.

Written By: Teege Braune I awoke with a runny nose and congested sinuses, the kind of throbbing, itchy discomfort that seems to extend from one’s face like a keratinized outgrowth and puts in one’s mind the apt nomenclature “rhinovirus.”

Written By: Adara Schwartz Each night, my husband sleeps on his back with his hands crossed over his chest, as though he is in a coffin.

Written By: Martin Taulbut It was almost nine when Linda stepped off the bus at Holyrood. Shivering, she buttoned up her blue serge jacket and strode to the studded wooden gates.

Written By: Spencer Rohloff What a lovely grave I’d dug! The ground was soft from last night’s rain and came up easy by the spadeful. Springtime fragrance filled my nose and all I smelt was sweetness. I would have enjoyed this more if not for the two boys prattling behind me.

Written By: Luke Barron The Body lies still.  It lies in its grave, rotting and fraying in its flesh, soil and muck soaking up the spoils of its decay as it stays lifeless and deceased...