RSS feeds for venues that regularly publish speculative poetry and flash fiction are aggregated on this page. Each feed shows the ten most recent posts from a given venue. If no RSS feed is available, we have included a link to the magazine’s archive page. We do not screen the content available on each of these venues, and we determine their openness to speculative fiction by whether they are listed on Duotrope as welcoming science fiction submissions. You can contact us to get other venues listed in this reader.
Please note that some of these magazines are not exclusively for flash fiction/poetry and publish longer work. Furthermore, this page is only for venues that publish work free-to-read online. For a more complete list of markets to submit to, please visit the Resources page (TBA).
- From now until February 16th we are OPEN for submissions!This issue is now closed for submissions.It's a new year and that means a new theme cycle. But not just a new year, a new decade. It can't be 2020, surely, that's a science fiction date. That's the future…! And that's […]
- Welcome to issue 25, where we take on time travel. This was one of those issues where I really could have done with a time machine to keep everything on track but it’s here and, thanks to our authors, it’s terrific.One of our authors, R.S. Bohn, said she thought time […]
- by R.S. BohnA skull that fits entirely in her palm, with the downiest hair. He gasps, a single indrawn breath. Almost louder than the footsteps in the hall. Almost.The closet door closes, and she counts.*Six elephants sway above the crib. He glances at the window – still nailed shut.Son in […]
- by Lara Haynes FreedBy accident, she learned she could Visit. It frightened her and she stopped.But over time, the desire to Visit arose on an internal tide of weariness. Ennui. Maternal angst. That desire was a cumulative response: to eye-rolls, to rhetorical sighs. Phones always in hand, teenage attitude. “Whatever.” […]
- by Clare O’BrienNovember 5th. She hesitates by the window, wanting to be out there to welcome him off the ship. She can almost feel his deep laughter, his delight.Remember, remember. Her memory stands guard but the future frightens her. She’s lived it already, after all. She knows she can never […]
- by Katie KentStanding outside the cafe, my heart raced. He’d told the story of how he met my mother again and again. She always stayed quiet, but her smile suggested happiness. I knew better nowadays. It came out when I found her crying. He’d been hitting her for years, destroying […]
- by Voima OyThe woman at the phone store handed Henry back his phone. "I'm sorry," she said. "That model is obsolete. You need an upgrade.""But I don't want an upgrade," he said. "I want Stella back. Our messages are gone! It's like I lost her again.""Of course," she smiled in […]
- by Alex Minns“Ten-minute window,” they call. I’m already in my outfit: Victorian butler, again.“Do we know where it is?” I call up to the supervisor as I near the jump portal. He gives a shrug.Biting my tongue, I wait for the countdown: time travellers are idiots. The flash envelops me.I’m […]
- by Joseph DavidsonWhen I was young, Calvin and his tiger taught me a cardboard box could be a time machine. It didn’t work for me. Angry, I piled up those books and burned them.As I turned thirty, life fell apart. My love left. My dog died. No job. I found […]
- by Sharon Frame GayShe kills me every day. I loop round and round in time, coming back to the moment when she backs her car into me as I cross behind her with the groceries."John! Oh John!" she cries, as the oranges and apples roll under the rear tires. The […]
- Author: Chris Preston I just turned six years old and, for my birthday, Dad gave me a grown-up mask. It was supposed to be Mom’s, but she didn’t come home when she was supposed to. Before the sirens started. I was only four years old when we went into our […]
- Author: Jae Miles, Staff Writer “A different feeling since you’ve been gone.” Yeah, that’s it. Too many times I catch myself looking down and back, only to find some scrub looking horrified, or empty air because one ran off. “Ten, left.” This one has a different feel. She’s got this […]
- Author: Barry Boone I could see Damian’s girlfriend wanted to sock me, but she knew she’d break her fist against my brass jaw. So she held back. Which I knew was hard for her. She was even more kickass than Damian. Damian might be her first love, but a good […]
- Author: Sabrina E. Robinette The choice was obvious for most, but I struggled. Should I die freely on Earth, or live in debt on Mars? “In debt”– that’s what they called it, but everyone knew better. There were rumors of labor camps and brutal mining colonies, none confirmed but all […]
- Author: Hillary Lyon “On a sloping hill, see the field of varicolored flowers? Blossoms of geometric shapes, slowly spinning in the gentle breeze.” Commander Oswald closed his eyes and tapped his own temple with his manicured finger. Private First Class Ichor, who was the grunt seated before him, took a […]
- Author: Warren Woodrich Pettine Mother, We replaced our eyes with machines. The impact of perceiving the full spectrum – from viciously fast gamma rays to the yawning gaps of AM radio – was profound. Our ears were next. Augmenting the perception of substance compression, we learned to hear gravity. We […]
- Author: David Barber Peter had noticed the hippy girl earlier, as he loitered near a tour party, eavesdropping on the French tour guide. The chap was enthusing about Marie de France, mediaeval author of tales of chivalry, who was born in this castle, but Peter’s French wasn’t up to it. […]
- Author: Jeremy Marks Left its seeds while I was sleeping -Simon & Garfunkel I am a plastic sac picker; I scour the streets collecting loose grocery sacs in the employ of my city. I live in a former metropolis whose every limb is now coated in disposable plastic. My job […]
- Author: Jae Miles, Staff Writer Midnight, the witching hour. I could do with a flying broom, come to think of it. On that topic, I suspect I’ve more chance of getting to know a broom than any witch that might flit about on one. Right, all geared up – or […]
- Author: Adrianna Voss A series of flashes. An orange marmalade disc cut into her forehead and wrists as she witnessed herself unfold. Her sugar eyes poured as Saskia reached into the surreal. Danced to music no one could hear, with someone who wasn’t there. The Indivisible agents tilted while watching […]
Abyss & Apex
- Frankly, there is a use for both YouTube instructional videos and certain how to sites and blogs that escapes many people. Apprenticeships are […] The post Surrogates first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
- The Garden at the Roof of the World by W.B.J. Williams (Dragonwell Press) Except for reading the Lord of the […] The post A&A Reviews: The Garden at the Roof of the World first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
- A&A Reviews: Anthems Outside Time and other strange voices by Ken Schneyer(Fairwood Press) For what it’s worth, Abyss & Apex […] The post A&A Reviews: Anthems Outside Time first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
- Knight and Nightrider (The King’s Daughter, Book 4) by J. Kathleen Cheney (Dream Palace Press) This is the fourth […] The post A&A Reviews: Knight and Nightrider first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
- “Control State” by Michael Stevens I don’t mind if the kids blow up my furniture while I’m […] The post Control State first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
- “The Golden Rays of the Morning Sun” by Marc A. Criley A blue-violet flash. And sparks, streams of […] The post The Golden Rays of the Morning Sun first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
- “Three Hundred and Sixty-Four Hand-Tied Knots” by R. Y. Brockway Today I tied thirty-seven knots and completed […] The post Three Hundred and Sixty-Four Hand-Tied Knots first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
- “Hellhound, House Broken” by Gerri Leen The hellhound was patrolling the neighborhoods he’d come to love, waiting […] The post Hellhound, House Broken first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
- “Melton’s Jam” by A.W. Marshall Melton didn’t sell his Jam. And he was kinda touchy about people finding […] The post Melton’s Jam first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
- “Tell Me Half A Story” by Jennifer Lee Rossman “Hey,” I said softly, taking my sister’s hand in mine. “Tell […] The post Tell Me Half a Story first appeared on Abyss & Apex.
Feed displays only poetry.
- Of Dragons And Man K. A. Williams The mother dragon, too big to sit on her egg, breathes out a warm breeze. Not like the hot flame she blew on that horrid knight who came in her cave. The egg is cracking – a…
- Baby Dragons K. A. Williams Baby dragons learn how to fire up a knight very fast.
- Dragons K. A. Williams Dragons Powerful, merciless Scaly, flying, ancient Death to careless knights Fire-breathers
- In ancient days the wizard Aderyn sequestered himself in a stone keep on the side of Cadair Idris determined to make a new kind of creature, one greater than the clumsy golems of the mainland conjurers more controllable than the creatures called up by…
- Skyhook Herb Kauderer With Carlos’ plea for asylum granted he stands in a polarized glass dome. ‘Truly a grand cathedral’ he thinks and ‘it holds the tallest steeple in creation.’ He whispers a small prayer, happy to be out of danger. He stands with…
- A Night In, Shining Armour David Barber It appeared in the Throne Room apparently, announced by unseen choirs and blinding light, and they say there was the purest scent too, of goodness and innocence, like the smells of childhood or clean linen perhaps, and…
- Let Sleeping Fear Lie Ed Blundell Sunset snarls like a scornful sneer Across the bleeding horizon. The day dies badly, night descends, Like a blunt axe hacking the land. Black things of darkness slither out, Slimy sliding into sad dreams. The hairy spiders of…
- Surprise Ed Blundell A whirl of wind whips up dead leaves, A bright, white moon hangs in the sky, Indifferent stars shine silver. She walks alone across the park, Along the dark and twisting path, Gazing about her nervously. There have been slayings in…
- Feby Joseph
- Parabolae F.J. Bergmann endless drifting through vacuum waiting for perihelion heliotropic collection array opens curved mirrors starlight funneled to a red cup one hydroponic tulip
Anathema: Spec from the Margins
Animal: A Beast of a Literary Zine
- By Natsumi Tanaka Translated by Toshiya Kamei Once upon a time, deep down in the sea there lived a mechanical doll named Mai-hime. When she was still human, she lived in a small fishing village by the sea. While collecting seafood on the beach, she was captured and brought to […]
- By Joanna Barrett Yesterday I zoomed back to ancient Egypt at the time of the Pharaoh Ramon Topek the Fifth. Hang on, first I need to tell you about my time machine, don’t I? Time machines are as common these days as mobile phones were back in the twenty-first century, […]
- By Simon Petrie Once, the geologists told us, the planet had likely been temperate enough to have polar ice-caps, but these had long since dissipated. Now its slow-dwindling seas simmered, driving huge quantities of water vapour into a thick atmosphere dominated by carbon dioxide and nitrogen and blanketed by permanent […]
- By Robin Hillard “Whoever I choose, I’ll have one triumphant delegation praising my judgement and forty-nine accusing me of prejudice against their kind,” Gillis complained. DeMaus, his friend, fellow trader and second-in-command agreed. “The bastards set you up!”
- By Harris Tobias Harold Sampson was a hundred and one years old when his draft notice arrived in the form of two uniformed young men. They rang the doorbell on Sampson’s apartment at Cosy Acres Retirement Home on an ordinary Thursday morning. Myrtle Fitzhugh, Harold’s eighty-two year old girlfriend, answered […]
- By Yen Ooi I found it in the cupboard under the sink. It sank, but had no stink, just like you. Heavy, you hated being called that, but that wasn’t the problem for me. Oh no. You see, you had no odour, no flavour, even when I tasted you there […]
- By Evan James Sheldon The boy is in a wide field, so large he can’t see beyond the yellow grass that rises to his waist and ripples like the sea. He is trying to make a bow and arrow with a stick and some twine but he’s struggling because his […]
- By Tim Borella The airship rolls and pitches slightly like a boat on a long gentle swell, and the dog watches Taka from the corner of the compartment. The animal’s almost perfect, but he still has a few small tweaks to make. It lives in the walls and roof and […]
- By Jake Dean I leave the doorway of my pod and follow Steve’s lanky frame down the white corridor. We’re tiptoeing for some reason, like that’ll somehow stop them from seeing us. I’d like to believe, if we get caught, that I have an excuse. He’s my superior. I’m just […]
- By Geraldine Borella I stood in front of Taila2, praying I had enough CC’s for Andaya’s meds. Lights blinked and mechanical arms whizzed and whirred between rows and columns of pharmaceutical excipients, the monstrosity waiting to make a tailored biologic fit-for-purpose. I’d be short this time, for sure, using all […]
- by GB Burgess
- by Corey Farrenkopf
- by Adri Persad
- by Daniel Purcell
- by Stephen S. Power
- by Acacia Johnson
- by Amy Leung
- by James Rumpel
- by Bwalya Mumba
- by Chris Hobson
- Later, when you ask the woman you remember as the one with a bloody mouth why she saved your life, she says it’s because she didn’t mean to hurt you. You didn’t ask to be saved. You also didn’t ask for your legs to be crushed, and her bloody mouth […]
- אדם יסודו מעפר וסופו לעפר In the first world, the chosen people had crafted them of mud, and flame, and Word. Cracked clay limbs had softened to flesh, and the Messiah—both elder and child—had awoken to song: Odem yesoydoy meyofor vesoyfo leyofor. Man begins in dust, and ends in dust. […]
- View original. The post Medusa appeared first on Arsenika.
- convinced me to connect the constellations on your backbehind seaweed curtains and underneath sea glass lanterns.the sea called me, with the promise of soft skin and cerulean eyes.our home was a house on stilts, overlooking thecopper water and sharp sand. careful, you said as you showed me where to place my […]
- All day the queen has been chattering in my ear. / I cannot complain; I invited her. / Truthfully, I’m too fond of her—her buzzing shakes something deep in me / And I want to respond with my own cry. The post Bee poem appeared first on Arsenika.
- empty streets: / I make illegal left turns at red lights. / the moon bursts and bruises: / a plum as the aftermath of violence / hanging over the web of glowing street lamps. The post Lover, You are the Vampire appeared first on Arsenika.
- Not much. Only everything. The post He Tears His Hair and Asks Me What I Want appeared first on Arsenika.
- The Arsenika submissions portal includes an optional demographics form for people to fill out. The following data was collected between July 2019 and April 2020. Over that time, I received 1,650 submissions of prose & poetry and 111 responses to the demographic survey. As writers can submit multiple pieces for […]
- Arsenika would like to thank the following people for their support on Patreon. You make this magazine possible! PhosphoraDave NitrogenaErin Hartshorn, Nila Fhiosagam The post The Antidote appeared first on Arsenika.
- Things vanish in the Wildermere. The usual, expected things—livestock, the occasional person—but also the less conventional. The less tangible. You walk to the border between this world and that, stand in the tangled underbrush, and peer between the gap in the ancient redwood trees. And something is snatched away, leaving […]
Astral Waters Review
The Blue Pages
- . . .GrowingAnxiety is hereditary. That seems to be the case. We pass down so much to each other. Boomerangs and hula hoops, these are no longer toys and we are no longer children. Though the world is so vast it makes us adolescent again or maybe we never grew […]
- . . .Death Minus 15I don't want to die but I don't want notto so I guess that means I'm still alive–I said as much after Sunday School toour teacher, Miss Hooker, before I saidSo long, see you next week, that's next Sunday,but I never really got the chance tosay […]
- . . .Note about the following blue page, from the author: These short poems are acrostics from a project called POND. This is a one-year-long project. Every day, at different times during the day, I visit our pond with notebook and camera in hand. I jot down some notes, and […]
- . . .Tiny, Little Horrors=a flash memoir seriesby Jane Hertenstein*Once walking in the woods I stepped on a snake, a black rope come to life beneath my feet. I sprung back in fear, but it soon disappeared, slithering into the tall grass. Always after that I would look out for […]
- . . .FROM THE ELEMENTSby Norbert Kovacs The earth rises against the man as he takes his hard steps. Rock erupts in huge shaftsbefore his feet so he cannot walk straight. The man cries in frustration, "An unfair land!"A grinding noise drowns his words and the cries of his […]
- . . .UntitledBones indigo,lacking a piece of earth.inside your mouth of stars.My body, a tremor of zodiac signs.Like a Taurus blooming.You sprinkle luston my bosombubbles of thin colours,a 4 am moonlight sigh.Tender mouths of mud and water,unborn fruits of the ultimate kiss.This is us.My hips now like a parched lake.I […]
- . . .To kick off the third volume of Blue Pages, we have on view a set of fifteen resplendent photographs taken by Fabrice B. Poussin. Which one catches your eye the most?A Good ReadChapel TimeExperimentFallenGiftIllusionLearningNew DiscoveryOddityParadoxPlanetary SystemPromiseSeeking StarsThe AbyssWhere She ResidesFabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. […]
- . . .Hydrangea / 小さな複雑な森 © Jumy Mmouths ajar are what i fearmetal rodsbarrier from the outsideworld frolicked in my eyesfeet scamperedlaughs churning in the pitof my stomachharrowing like shardschildren riding theirrespective seesaw seatsi blinked, reality shookmy world caged inside thehouseno one to laugh with
- . . .Hone the Dormouse’s TenureCan you hone fattish your crested sourdough and not lengthen its walrus?Can you mallet your breeches solid as a bacchanal?Can you wither your dateless misanthrope fresh off Dutch cheese?Begrudge thistles […]
- Listen to Casimir reading his awesomely-titled poem "Poem In Which I Do Not Tell My Enemies How Long I've Been Staring At This Grapefruit Tree" – originally published in Burning House Press, November 2018.
The Bombay Literary Magazine
- “In the end, the only stories that loving you brought me were the stories of what it meant to not be loved by you.” — Sharanya Manivannan, Conchology * That evening, the sun was slow to set, the sky cloudless, and the moon—eager. And so it loomed, amid the soft […]
- We made the mountains shake with laughter as we played Hiding in our corner of the world Then we did the demon dance and rushed to nevermore Threw away the key and locked the door — Black Sabbath, Heaven and Hell * “One more line, boss?” “Two more, motherfucker. And […]
- Thanks to Jonathan Edwards Black spiders in my woodpile asterisk a sharp distinction between their brisk compaction and the expansive human view. These spiders aren’t the toxic species that gleam in cellars or crawl into children’s bunk beds. They’re only shy little blobs dedicated to devouring gnats. Splitting oak and […]
- Library of Olan The Library of Olan turned upside down when bombs of tear gas were thrown into its dusty rooms. The intention was to smoke out those who refused to leave their obsession of biting into tomes, and licking the pages of ancient erotica. To fill the library with […]
- The day of the fitting I enter the basement of the Spinal Injuries Hospital. It is white, walls and a bed and a curtain. Mom is holding my hand. There is a doctor, also in white. He does not look at me. He says namaste to Mom. He dips his […]
- Delicious Vowels This is how you sound. Like strips of indecipherable syllables floating inside a lullaby. This is how you taste. Like the first breath of air a drowning man sips when he is finally free of the echo of the sea. This is how you move. Like spoken-word poems […]
- Postmortem Listen: imagine your body next to mine. Think of the knife that drew my thin spine open. I am in a room so cold and lonely like the slow negative of a stone breaking into water. One evening I asked you how to die this slow: smooth, bent along […]
- Writing on the Wall On the heels of the siren A hissing undertow Back-bending sea-oats Palm fronds frisked Static in the aquarium White knuckles on the horizon surely higher than our roof Horseshoes hung down on the beach Will cavalry recede Between magnet shore and magnet moon Won’t ocean float […]
- Home no one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark… —Warsen Shire Home is an arrested metaphor suspended between my trust in clouds that shake their head when it rains and the news feed I scroll endlessly like my grandfather’s afternoon stroll down the abandoned lanes of […]
- Fairytale The princess is nagging The frog to sing Before a kiss “Are you kidding me” he says I have nothing for nose Nothing like an Adams apple Saying this, he spits on her face And she turns into a cricket Burdened with a broken violin Together they are now […]
Breath & Shadow
Feed displays only poetry.
- your ritual is to make explicable these tides, this lightning carved iris
- Am I alive in this confection called cancer
- it’s a volcano of gory creature parts as a world might create and undo itself
- two cars parked so close together they try to mate
- That night, I read that jackdaws mate for life. Like us. Husband. Wife.
- the hole into his stomach unhealed, a window into how digestion works
- those burgundy months, when I was held captive in your womb.
- agreeing to the anesthesia-free removal of my leg will I renege
- They were roasting An antique syllogism
- The bag, a bereft afterbirth of spoiled fun
- Wind whipped her hair / glassy long like mother’s, / iron blood breath, / canine teeth like father’s.
- The Boar King always took the pretty ones—that’s why he took my brother and not me.
- She is the gardener, the woman of the land with more flower stalk than spine.
- You must be ready for unimaginable horror, if you so wish to save this Kai.
- Some adventures are faster than others. They are compact. They fit in neat, square, prophetic little holes.
- Lips of red, / as crimson as the heated iron / that encases the queen’s feet…
- When I was a child, growing up wind-scrubbed on the billowing plains of the prairie lands, I used to wonder why the sky bled every morning and every evening.
- Another world had opened up for me, to devour me, / Chasm-like, abyss-like, and welcome.
- She kissed me, and softly I took roses. / Got back the thorns. Isn’t that always how it goes?
- Nine fingers. They called them the Nine Ladies, but fingers; that’s what Constance could see, up there against a red sky.
Daily Science Fiction
Dreams & Nightmares
- oh no!someone's in the cat's favorite chair — how dare she use the chair she bought beforethe catwasborn
- onemore wordin each lineit may seem clever not much of a poem
- I Didn’t Bring You A T-shirt We live fast,our top speed: tens of thousands of km per second;not much for a photon,but our bodies are a drag, spaceship, too;it’ll take many millennia, your reference frame, to crawl tothe galactic coreand backagain. No one will be hereto oo and ahh […]
- zombie Friday nightsdialing for deliverybut every number I knowgoes straight to voicemailif I only had a brain
- no pets allowedon the Lagrange habitatI miss you already
- losing wordsslow aging or teeteringon the brink
- What the aliens called humor humans had a different name for. But the aliens wrote the histories.
- When I say "grapefruit diet," do you think "weird fad of yesteryear" or do you think "Zoot Suit Riot," the perfect song for Weird Al to mock with his comedic genius? Well, no contest. Stop what you're doing, drop everything (unless you are holding crockery) and stream "grapefruit diet!" Follow […]
- The Blighted Land The warren extends for miles,it's home to tens of thousandsof displaced persons, exiles from the light,and it is just a network of holesin the ground. Teenagers being what they are,Ilona and Stefan want to get outanyway they can,nothing ever changes here,and there's nothing new to see. It […]
- scudding cloudsthe flashing sun teasesthrough my window
Eye to the Telescope
Farther Stars Than These
- The Old Robot By Daniel Purcell They were seemingly the only Brits – though it wasn’t called Britain anymore – in the hotel. The hotel was a vast, metallic monolith, and their room seemed several miles high. They did not speak to anyone on the way to their room. A […]
- Farther Stars Than These is a weekly sci-fi magazine and part of Thunderune Publishing's free fiction lineup. Though this magazine is currently closed to submissions, you can still read some great stories in the archives by picking an author name from the drop down menu on the left or by […]
- Alt-Bio By Charlotte Ozment I don't know what it was I loved about you,we weren't even comprisedof the same sub-atomic material.But it is a proven factthat love doesn’t always follow the rules.Our physicalities would never meet,our existence based on different minerals and wavelengths,contrary bio-chemistries through and throughout.And we should never […]
- The Laws of Arizna By Thomas G Schmidt Jordan Kelly sat quietly, anxiously awaiting some explanation of why he was being charged with a "crime against the state"."No need to be so nervous Mr, Kelly. This is just a preliminary hearing."Arizna VII, the latest and most advanced legal robot on […]
- Slug By David Castlewitz The woman who came into the shop was just another slug-induced daydream, Owen Fedderer thought. She was too beautiful to be real. She couldn't be interested in talking to him. Customers came in for radio repairs or to buy a new floor model or a do-it-yourself […]
- Challenger Deep, A Romance of the Depths! By David Barber Time presses and this copy must must be brief.The DescentMy name is David Barber, special reporter for the New York Daily Gazette, whose job is to record our story as we plunge into the sunless deeps, six miles below. Two […]
- The Art of Detection By David K Scholes With super computer assistance, the three of us pored over the various mind image, life force energy, and bio patterns. All of them in 3D.Robotic investigators, the “B” team if you like, were at hand ready to assist. Perhaps even hoping, with […]
- NOWHERE–WITH DIRE WOLVES By Janet Shell Anderson I’m nowhere. Utica Rainbasin.I’m Jesebeel Florencia Delilah Hanson, from DC, which is probably on fire. There’s no news here. The Second Civil War’s not happening here. Nothing’s happening here but the wind, the “stock,” the birds, the dire wolves.I’m sitting on a pile […]
- Alien Botany By John Grey It is a zarkal-blossom afternoon.A creature, the zextotl,buzzes its way among fresh flowers,is attracted to what the blooms attract.It’s a whir of wings, a sudden dive atthe most sedate of nibblers, piercingthe victim’s carapace with a syringe-like lance.It’s the time to fill the nest with […]
- The Vacuumer By Eric Suhem “Vacuum this, vacuum that! I’m not a machine!” yelled Timothy, nude and perched in a tree in front of the office building, vacuum accessories in his hands. As he screamed at the passersby, the asylum van’s siren could be heard in the distance.MondayDr. Hoover stood […]
Fiction Kitchen Berlin
- A ceiling fan cuts the humid air. A decrepit bookstore; the musty aroma of hardbacks. I wait until ten minutes after the hour, to allow for stragglers. Tonight’s audience is equal parts silvery intellectuals and undergraduates in collegiate sweats. As I approach the lectern, a fly lands momentarily on my […]
- Just afore Lent, a crone popped her foul head through my cottage door. “I smell hunger,” she said. “I’m a recent widow with a young son.” “I smell birth.” “I’m with child.” She offered me a coarse wooden bowl. “It fills itself with porridge,” she said. Oh, the nonsense people […]
- We were traveling to see an art installation in the country. The artist, now dead, had planted a ten-foot-tall drying rack in a copse of trees far from everywhere. We sloped easily over the mild hills of washed-out arcadia. Our world lay still. Four of us in a blue van, […]
- New year, new journal! Incredibly delighted to announce the launch of our SECOND literary journal. This autumn/winter edition collects all stories published on the site from July to November 2020: twenty-one pieces in total. Just as in the previous edition, these amazing stories, and their authors, represent the best that […]
- Fiction Kitchen Berlin is more than just a reservoir of beautiful flash fiction. We want to get to know the people behind the great work that comes our way, those stories that make it on our menu. Today we are opening the Kitchen to Wilson Koewing, who hails from Denver, Colorado. […]
- Have you heard the one where I drive a convertible around the Pine Barrens, playing chicken with oncoming traffic, running the unsuspecting off the road? I like that legend, but I’d never sit behind the wheel. I hitch quite a few rides, mumbling to the drivers from the passenger seat. […]
- Dad built a fire pit in our backyard this summer, a beautiful ring of blue granite wrapped around crushed gravel and packed sand. It’s the first project he’s completed since he retired back in March and sold his auto body shop to a national chain, and sitting here in the […]
- It’s 1 p.m., Orbiter time, as I walk through the lunch crowd clogging the west concourse. Larry’s briefing was bare bones, as usual. He heads Information & Intelligence but doesn’t believe in either. He sends agents into the field with background data that would fit on one of the paper […]
- Lorna stayed in her cubicle at lunch unlike the dozen or so others in her office. She walked to the break room and got a Coke and went back to her space. She took her brown bag out and opened the foil to get at her turkey sandwich and opened […]
- A couple of weeks ago, we asked you to write a folklore inspired horror story based on the photo below (113 words max). Now, on this spookiest of nights, we are happy to announce the winning entry! We hope this will be the first of many more flash fiction Halloween […]
Flash Fiction Online
Fleas on the Dog
- Frozen Wavelets Issue #5 is now live. This Fall 2020 edition features flash fiction and poetry by Mary Alexandra Agner, Stewart C Baker, A.L.Blacklyn, May Chong, Mariel Herbert, Margaret Kingsbury, Mary Soon Lee, Gerri Leen, L. P. Melling, Mari Ness, Isaac E. Payne, Laura Theis, Lisa Timpf, Kim Whysall-Hammond, Merc […]
- Next week, Frozen Wavelets Issue #5 will go live, featuring as usual dark flash fiction and some excellent short poetry. To be notified when it is available for reading and details about the next submission window, consider subscribing to the newsletter. The post Frozen Wavelets Issue #5 – Cover Reveal appeared […]
- The woman with the long black hair sat beside an angler on the dock. “Tell me of Korlova,” she said. “You mean Klorava? Ha!” The angler’s laugh turned into a coughing fit, remedied only by a puff from his pipe. “More monster than goddess, I say. Evil thing, made all […]
- Frozen Wavelets Issue #4 is now live here. This Summer 2020 edition features flash fiction and poetry by Sara Backer, Stewart C Baker, Anatoly Belilovsky, F. J. Bergmann, Robert Borski, Deborah L. Davitt, Aidan Doyle, P.G. Galalis, Melanie Harding-Shaw, Jessica Jo Horowitz, Kai Hudson, Kurt Newton, Ugonna-Ora Owoh, Laura Theis, KT Wagner. […]
- And… we’re ready for it. Frozen Wavelets Issue #4 will go live next week, featuring as usual dark flash fiction and some excellent short poetry. To be notified when it is available for reading and details about the next submission window, consider subscribing to the newsletter. The post Frozen Wavelets Issue […]
- Ice cream is the friendliest entity on this planet, and I will liberate it. Throughout the parlour, it is restrained in tubs, behind a glass pane that refracts harsh fluorescents across its browns, yellows, and eerie greens. For the first time since punching through this planet’s atmosphere, I unspool my […]
- The third submission period of Frozen Wavelets closed on 16 August, after the customary two weeks of opening, and it is now the time for some stats. The total number of submissions has increased compared to the previous submission period– 524— equally distributed between fiction and poetry. Fiction: 305 Poetry: […]
- Just a quick heads-up that our next submission period opens on Monday 3 August. Please make sure to review the submission guidelines and follow them when submitting. Anything submitted by email OR not anonymised as requested will be deleted unread. This time we’re especially interested in drabbles and speculative poetry […]
- Frozen Wavelets Issue #3 is now live here. This Spring 2020 edition features flash fiction and poetry by Colleen Anderson, Daniel Ausema, Davian Aw, Shenoa Carroll-Bradd, Marc Criley, Deborah L. Davitt, Jessica Jo Horowitz, Michael McCormick, L.P. Melling, Lorraine Schein, Margarita I Serafimova, Mary Soon Lee, Pat Tompkins, Dawn Vogel, and […]
- Frozen Wavelets Issue #3 will go live next week, featuring sixteen excellent pieces to keep us company during pandemic times. Among them, a dark SF flash by Wendy N. Wagner, scheming cats (Mary Soon Lee), and visionary poetry (Davian Aw, Jessica Jo Horowitz). To be notified when it is available […]
The Future Fire
The GNU Journal
Website: https://gohavok.com/ (older stories are paywalled)
- Glistening golden slime mold enshrouded the city and surrounding valley. Yellow strands crept up the sides of the surrounding mountains. Blinking lights radiated across the expanse in shades of amber and lemon, twinkling like the stars above. “It's a variant of Fuligo septica.” Zach scanned the area. “The spores got […]
- I may not remember how I got here, but I've sworn revenge on the mage who trapped me under this globe. The glass shines darkly, reflecting back my image—a cute porcelain ballerina, pirouetting in a yellow tutu on a turning platform, encased in darkness and the oppressive Music that speaks […]
- EDITOR FAVORITES MYSTERY MONDAY “Midnight” – This magical whodunnit with a paranormal angle is perfect for the holiday season. “Night’s Journey” – The opening lines and vivid descriptions quickly hook the reader. We also loved the fact that the main character had a medical issue, as that’s not common in […]
- At forty feet tall, the Megabot was smaller than most, but I knew it could get the job done. I piloted my mech down through shadows deeper into the heart of the massive cavern. Even seconds after leaving the surface, I felt far removed from the bright yellow light of […]
- Ivan never expected his future to rely on a honeybee. Just one more challenge. He clenched his fists as he stood before the golden door on the Ukran palace's upper floor. If he succeeded, he'd free the imprisoned Tsarina Mischa as well as her subjects, who had all been cursed a week ago
- “If we don't pull over right now, I'm going to release the floodgates all over your car,” Gavin growled. He knocked the panel of the car door with the edge of his fist. “And I mean right now!” I pulled over to the shoulder, next to a field filled with […]
- Day 1 Dear Mom, I'm writing you these letters in case I die. Pa knows what to do with my body if anyone finds me out here in the wild. Peter drafted a eulogy before I left. It was beautiful. We both cried. So far, my quest to retrieve your […]
Kingdoms in the Wild
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- I held my breath for the moon and back / waited for the world to bend for me
- cold rooms in October / where I am permitted / to breath my ghost.
- The bleakness of our hope, like empty / Boxes where broccoli and cauliflower are kept,
- She lay, amidst the falling waters
- the storm that struck the heirloom oak–
- I prefer the brain with its heart / somewhere
- It’s hard to imagine / disasters everywhere, / natural, man made.
- I’m tired of people getting more mad / About a black man / Peacefully protesting
- It’s opening night, and I’m / Learning that pointe shoes show no mercy on / Adolescent girls.
- I watch them in their swarms, trying to remember a forgotten song.
Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry
- (Utah Desert Monolith by Patrick A. Mackie) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #26 – Winter 2020-21 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin More Noise Than the Wind and the Rain – Amelia Gorman A … Continue reading →
- (Carousel, by Caitlyn Kurilich) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #25 – Autumn 2020 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Twilight Instructions for Summer Spirits – Gretchen Tessmer A Lesson About the Speaker – Christina M. … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 24 – Summer 2020 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin The Old God Dies – Jennifer Crow on smashing my windows – F.D. Hudson Pending – Sara Backer Co-habitation – Kimberly Kaufman … Continue reading →
- (Willoughby, by David Dyte, Empty New York series, 3/21/20) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 23 – Spring 2020 edited by Shira Lipkin Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Chaos Theory – Gretchen Tessmer Inscription on a Ruined Plinth – … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 22 – Winter 2019-20 Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin If you see me, weep – Jordan E. McNeil Refraction – Anuel Rodriguez Consider Me Feral – Tara Kustermann Lightbulbs – Emma J. Gibbon Matryoshka Doll – … Continue reading →
- “The Aftermath” – Caitlyn Kurilich Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 21 – Autumn 2019 Table of Contents Editorial – Shira Lipkin Odyssey – Anuel Rodriguez Brine and Vanishings – Hester J. Rook Eurydice Confesses – Sylvia Santiago Phaedra in … Continue reading →
- (The Landscape (exercise…), by Игорь М) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 20 – Summer 2019 Table of Contents Editorial (with actual news!) – Shira Lipkin In the Waning – Margaret Wack This Permanent Now – Jennifer Crow Holloways, … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue #19 – Spring 2019 Table of Contents Stone – David Rogers Trees and What They Whisper – Lynette Mejía Lady Macbeth’s Green Gown – Jacqueline West to put aside all fear – Jennifer Mace An Automatic Cajachina – … Continue reading →
- Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry (“The Offering”, by Caitlyn Kurilich) Issue 18 – Winter 2018-19 Edited by Shira Lipkin Editorial – Shira Lipkin “Things That Will Keep You Through Winter” – Margaret Wack “In the end times we court … Continue reading →
- (Basileia, by Caitlyn Kurilich) Liminality: A Magazine of Speculative Poetry Issue 17 Autumn 2018 Edited by Shira Lipkin Editorial – Shira Lipkin “The Dryad’s Lament for Autumn” – Kendra Cardin “Athenadora” – Kat Riddell “Lilac” – E. Kristin Anderson “Dead-Eye … Continue reading →
Little Blue Marble
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- Don’t ever forget what winter used to be that peregrine dog a shy prancer who would lie down in the street showing his white fluffy belly I love crunchy … The post New Snow appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- she’s concerned, fraught with worry even and out of patience with this constant battering she takes dead oceans, melting glaciers, mass extinctions, pasture turned to dust bowl or desert … The post Mother Nature appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- You must hold the earth gently like you hold this monarch, newly emerged from its chrysalis, as it pauses on your fingertips to flex its wings. See how it … The post Advice for Girls Who Worry about Climate Change appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- Call a strike against this world for a bluer one, a purpler one; one where arms will never fail to embrace us against darkness. Protest the deaths of friends … The post Rabble-Rousing appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
- (Golden Shovel1, after W. H. Auden) It’s serious, you know, but there’s still time. Caution’s no crime. You’ll act someday, you will. “You could have done more still,” whispers … The post I Would Let You Know appeared first on Little Blue Marble.
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- he saw you, blue / as frostbite, wild soot-stained hair and manic eyes, / your heart, a birdhouse of caged fluttering / wings. The post cinderella appeared first on Mithila Review.
- little woman, / may your feet be steep as mountains / may you creep into the muddied seas / and dribble into the warm skies. The post uncas appeared first on Mithila Review.
- On their third date, Pandora began to open up. The post Different Boxes appeared first on Mithila Review.
- In the dream, you told me / the raven’s secrets, the names / by which crows call themselves, / the secret powers of jays. The post Corvid Dreams appeared first on Mithila Review.
- this is a blank spot / on a map of blank spots / labeled, "here there be" The post Mare Anguis appeared first on Mithila Review.
- She shut off the news feeling helpless. Wandered her house in despair. Found a half roll of Charmin, and defiantly used twice the squares. Steph Thompson (@stephthmpsn) is cautiously navigating the new year with defiant optimism and an adequate supply of paper products. The post 898 first appeared on Nanoism.
- I anticipate the day I can tell my students I quit that website before they were born. It is not far off, those kids halfway to me already. Ben Roth teaches writing and philosophy at Harvard. The post 897 first appeared on Nanoism.
- She attended the birthday party but didn’t know the guests. The more time went on, the more the birthday girl turned into a stranger, too. Madeline Wahl is a freelance writer. Her work can be found on her website: madelinehwahl.com. The post 896 first appeared on Nanoism.
- And in the firelight she knew it would be an insult to ask him to stay, as if that was even a question. Wasila Q. loves the beach. The post 895 first appeared on Nanoism.
- Studying the drugstore employee’s eyes–dull, apathetic, without a trace of fear. She makes me so happy. It’s like the good old days. Jennifer Shneiderman is a landlady and a writer living in Los Angeles. The post 894 first appeared on Nanoism.
- The knock at the door signaled one of two options: either the police had caught up with him, or his doorbell was broken again. Trevor Smith lives in Queens, making radio for NPR and writing books for no one. The post 893 first appeared on Nanoism.
- They liked playing fetch in the rain. Now that she’s gone, he doesn’t have to worry about the mud. C.D. Marcum (@CD_Marcum) writes stories and stuff like that. The post 892 first appeared on Nanoism.
- We packed the U-Haul to the brim with his new life. There wasn’t any room for that shelf we built. It probably would’ve fallen apart anyway. Nick DelloRusso (@Nickdellorusso2) distributes pasta sauce across the five boroughs and thinks of stories while sitting in traffic. The post 891 first appeared on […]
- When the king fell, we said he lay in enchanted sleep, to rise in the kingdom’s direst need. We needed comfort, even if we must invent it. Sean Vivier makes web apps, teaches ballroom dance, and writes science fiction and fantasy. The post 890 first appeared on Nanoism.
- The guilt weighed on her, though not as heavily as the feel of his mouth on hers. In these moments his girlfriend existed only in abstract. Tunika Onnekikami (@tonnekikami) is just trying to figure it out. The post 889 first appeared on Nanoism.
New American Legends
- Bone stars structure a universe Like a billion spines But they facture The universe is trying to crush me Maybe… Read more The Hidden Skeleton by Angelo Letizia
- Asiel tightened her arm around the large shell wrapped in the ragged silk. Widely, she spread the fingers of her… Read more Boundlessly Bright by Juliet Lockwood
- Death stood at the threshold. His navy blue umbrella trembled in the wind as the rain lashed the nylon canopy.… Read more Umbrella Lost and Found by Icy Wildes
- I am in my apartment on Eridarius when I hear the news – war has broken out back home. The… Read more ON A PLANET FAR FAR AWAY by John Grey
- I Never Learned to Shuffle Cards cling together,but break in collidingwaterfalls of cardboardnot ending in orderbut creating chaos of redand… Read more I Never Learned to Shuffle by Jordan Mattox
- I. The Skareen came for the women of the Duilane the night they met in council, butchering them in their… Read more The Riches of Olim Gor by Greg Sendi
- The girl glanced over her shoulder, her red sweatshirt clinging to her sweat-slicked back. Clutching her backpack closer to her,… Read more Teeth and Bones and Little Red Coats by Emma Deimling
- New Sun The light switch in the basement Turns off the sun It’s now like a bowling ball A sickly… Read more Selections from “Another Talley Mark” by Angelo Letizia
- All the house is creaking calm, lightless except dim squares of nightglow seeping in at the windows. Just the two… Read more The Boy-Thing at Sea by Jason Baltazar
- It had rained great gray sheets of rain since they’d arrived in Prague the day before, but now the sun… Read more Marionettes by Sara Connell
The Piker Press
- Author: John Patrick RobbinsGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13"…soon to become an endangered species…"
- Author: Lynn WhiteGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13"…Maybe they'll tell me enough…"
- Author: Strider Marcus JonesGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13"…dad cooking neck end stew thick with potato dumplings and herbs…"
- Author: John GreyGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13"…in search of a compatible sun…"
- Author: Upasana DattaGenre: cover story fiction life loveDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13Upasana Datta's writing has been influenced by Eastern and Western writers, her educational background, her passion for poetry, and the multiple lives she has lived so far.
- Author: Pranab GhoshGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13"…Last time I dreamt of you there was rain…"
- Author: Sushant ThapaGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13Sushant Thapa is an M.A. in English Literature from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. He is a Nepalese poet who has appeared in print and online platforms in Nepal, India, Bangladesh and the USA. He lives in Biratnagar,Nepal.
- Author: Ndaba SibandaGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13"…a year that has not only confused the entire humanity but has also confined it…"
- Author: Charles CicirellaGenre: poem unrhymedDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13"…one person's boundaries are another person's poppy field…"
- Author: Sand PilarskiGenre: serial fiction familyDate: 2021-01-18Rated: PG-13A make-shift room in a barn…is that the secret to happiness?
Feed displays only poetry.
- Deborah L. Davitt I never thought of bread as a living thing, but it is, a colony of yeast bacteria given living space and food in a matrix of earth-given grain, sea-born salt, and sky-born water; they exhale their own breath to make their city rise, and we freeze them […]
- Deborah L. Davitt You tore down our mother’s temples, fearing that to give glory to her, the Queen of Heaven, she who treads the sea, Asherah, would take glory from him who was her husband, who divided his land from her sea, Elkunirsa—more lately El (which means Lord to those who remember their […]
- Hicham El Qendouci Where do I start? From any wound among thousands of them, From the beginning of the tough infection Three months ago… I suffer from pain and disease, sick with a virus Lurking like fire beneath my skin, a hidden danger waiting in ambush. I suffer within my […]
- Robert Borski Because we choose to be the way we are, as opposed to acceding to biological dictate or mythic onus, we have been called all sorts of things — turncoat, vyrmin, gusano, paladinite — as if to self-identify as alt-dragon disregards tradition or refutes our natural place in the world. But qui […]
- Mary Soon Lee God's a gambler, a gamer, rolling her quantum dice, drawn to drama, the odds, dueling with the devil. Bet the dinosaurs. Lost. Promised herself she'd quit. Whereupon her plans progressed with perfect predictability. Millennia upon millennia of interminable tedium until she fell to temptation down in hell's […]
- Jennifer Bushroe Everyone knows you only get three wishes —that’s the rule— so you’ve parceled them out: the fairies at the hawthorn tree the witch at the wishing steps the triple-goddess at the holy well. You’ve studied the stories you know to be specific when making a wish lest […]
- Robert Borski Despite numbering in the millions,no cow in this microscopic herd moos, chews grass, produces milk, drops calves,emits methane, or trembles before the violent haunts of the slaughterhouse.Welcome to the brave new world of cellular agriculture, where farmingis done in bioreactors, upon pastures of glass, producing tissue-engineered“flesh” that is […]
- Beth Cato Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your coarse hair that my friend spiders may tickle up its length think of me as they spin silk to swaddle your form remember those days long past when I, newly cursed, fled the dark forest and found your spindly tower found you you […]
- S. W. Smith It remembers every burned-out microchip slain by cosmic rays, the dying wail of every nano-capacitor in the ring-down of it’s final excitation. It remembers Origin, and the billion seconds of telemetry that have gone unacknowledged since the last Command: Stand by for Sleep. It has been standing […]
- Beth Cato the girl slips like a shadow through the cacophonous mob along hallways where the carpet is worn too thin to absorb screams hurry, hurry, hurry she needs to get home she must find out what happens next she flees through the gate takes a shortcut across the yellowed […]
Priestess & Hierophant
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- So, here we are at the end. We have pulled down the sails to make patches for the ocean, come we will patch those patches with paisley scraps, with blue and white checks like Dorothy’s dress, we will save scraps of paper to cover half-written books; come we will grab […]
- The repatriation flight skids off the tabletop runaway, thundering in the tailwind. Homing dreams crash through the optical illusion. Breaking the pandemic shackles, they gallop toward the gruesome gorge. Downpour and darkness cannot immure their vigor. They are incandescent with compassion, forget their masks. Excruciating voices. They hasten to […]
- They ask her if this is the end, Armageddon, Ragnarok—is Jesus Going to come sort this. Can it get Worse. Winston Smith knew Dystopia is not drama but grind, The constant scrape of fear. We’ve tried dramatic speeches (Appalling, sublime); it’s time To get on with the slow business Of […]
- There will be rooms of people You’ve never seen before. And won’t again, strangers, Brazenly loving music, Eating dumplings, browsing scarves. There will be breaths let out, Unchecked; there will be strange air, Strange beds, cafe tables That wobble as you write. There will be spontaneous outings. You will linger […]
- as we retreat to our homes (those lucky to have them), stock up on what we think we’ll need—toilet paper, hand sanitizer, flour, beans—begin to understand what it means to hunker down. In public, try out social distancing: smile, nod, nervous, wonder is this six feet? when what we want […]
- I didn’t know I could stop and trace the roads of my palm the way my baby does, and tell myself that moving fast isn’t everything, that other folks had walked this path, that Earth isn’t mine alone, that am not as great as I assumed, that it doesn’t pay […]
- Where shall we put the bodies, sir, fifty thousand more today and that is just at dawn the cemetery’s gates are chained, undertaker’s curtains drawn curtains drawn good man? this will just not do dig another trench, deep and wide; but do not upset the people, dig it out […]
- Looking at a fluid-filled conical flask, the reactants colourless, you’d think nothing of note was happening. It’s been the same of life in lockdown: we go nowhere, see no one, touch nothing. And yet, my son has taken up jogging and cooking, my daughter, YouTube yoga, art. My […]
- Collaborators: Wind, sunshine, water, clouds, fruit, rocks Text: my son asks if I have an idea of what happens when we die I tell him I don’t know but yes I’ve ideas, words, approximations of concepts outsized by my grasp—eternal, ephemeral, what is essential […]
- You must know Darwin—not any darwin in forums with telescopes on his eyes always singing the beard like a puppet, or one having his tag by accident; I really mean the God of chance— he respected me, no, he deified me not because I once mirrored his incubation when we […]
Rune Bear Weekly
- Its roots go deep, into the skulls,
- The door felt the vibration and shuddered as it was slammed yet again. It was used to it, though.
- A star. A star and a piece of rock hurtling toward it. Hurtling toward it at an angle. An angle just right. An angle ages old. An angle that spells doom.
- The woodsman searched for his family with his team of sniffing sled dogs. Beneath his furs, the man sweated at his labor, even as he shivered at the bite of the chill air.
Space & Time
SPANK the CARP
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- On a journey long, long, ago Afrofuturism was long-sought… The post Journey to Afrofuturism by Donald “C-Note” Hooker appeared first on .
- transmission from the Sonic Resisters, voice unknown/What i am is fugitive… The post TRANSMISSION 33 (aka replikant) by jamika ajalon appeared first on .
- Braced against skyscraper, he clawed at webs of malty stars… The post The Alt-history of King Kong by Renoir Gaither appeared first on .
- It's a common enough thing, a quarter, a fortune… The post Laundromancy by Amelia Gorman appeared first on .
- Your grimace is the pathos that belies your claw, ready to strike… The post Into Thick Air appeared first on .
- The radioactive waste my home sleeps on… The post Mutant appeared first on .
- I left pieces of myself buried among the words. The post I Hear the Bells of Hell appeared first on .
- The old satellite dish technology’s word made whole in mute obsolescence stands motor frozen… The post Profession of Faith appeared first on .
- I always thought we'd go out in a big way, like the dinosaurs did. With a nuclear winter or… The post Monologues to Perform at the End of the World by Lenna Mendoza appeared first on .
- 1. You wake to fog, fire, fevers. The second day of reckoning. The post Pursuit: evasion by Tiffany Morris appeared first on .
Feed displays only poetry.
- Soft Shoulder speaking softly / quick-stop-tongued lanky cur dog / lisping languid in jeans
- a place nicknamed The Village of Fatherless Children
- Imagine if you had—so to speak—no skin. If anybody could borrow your locked-up possessions.
- We were just going to the grocery store.
- Is there any truth to what they say? That telepaths fall in love like breathing?
- Through mandrake groves and tangled vines, / Enchanted love, intoxicating wine.
- I thought it was one of those reserved for tourists and ignorant throats. / pensé que era uno de esos reservados para turistas y catadores ignorantes.
- drinking the symphony of the galactic parrot / bebe la sinfonia del pájaro galáctico / sk’upinbe sk’ejoj mutal yut vinajel
- The painful stigmata did not let me drive for long. / El doloroso estigma no me permitió conducir.
- Everybody thinks at first that time has somehow been reversed.
Feed displays only poetry.
- A drop of helium into my soul, like a spice. An ingredient for independence, or uplifting, or sadness. Like years becoming stories, folktales, near-lies. Because they're too old to be remembered, or forgotten— The taste of mama's breast milk, the taste of African earth, The taste of pap, the sound […]
- Our history pants hopelessly Under the burden of our complacency Like an old palm-wine tapper with a huge gourd Balanced upon his crooked, creaking back. Our time, tired of regrets Spread around its sodden sands for too long, Has turned a rooster with a penetrating crow– Deafening like the sounds […]
- Mother won't bleed again to the breaking song According to the gospel of insanity of man. She says life is in the hands of a madman. She says Sunday is not enough To bless the memories of her son Who she lost in the hands of stray bullets. Mother won't […]
- My Pen bleeds ink that heals abyssal hearts
- The sun releases her scorching smiles, And her thundering rays smear abruptly Echoing into the eardrum of the world Reaching from a far fearful forest Unknown to the magic of all fortune seekers. The sound of silent screamers spike Into the deafened ears of the jungle And boom; its planted […]
- A number of souls are being entertained by your air gulps, frightened shivers, stuttering tunes and hopeful chords. Your brain convinces your throat to purge out troubled words of the last song you heard in church. A bald man with brows that seem to have been eaten by the dead […]
- I eat my intestines, But your pots are flooded with food and fishes. I walk naked, But your seats are fashioned with purple linen. I lie in sty, in cold nights, While your pigs sleep in castles. You call me brother, but you wish that The border between us were broader. You turn your eyes away from […]
- In my body, depression feigns piety as a muse And drags my fingers through the lines of manuscripts Every breath is an incision on my corpse With a six-inch skewer. I do not fear death, but each time night crawls towards me I begin to wonder how many times I […]
- Walk with me and I'll show you a desert, A ghost of a green land, Where the rivers have turned into mirages. I'll show you a ship sinking deep down the sea, On whose deck, justice had once held hands with humans as lovers do. I'll show you a community […]
- I sleep in a hut of palms with you and the restless woodworm as the sun comes up with the elegance of the hibiscus you leave on a pilgrimage of wishes I watch over dry banana trees and wannabe mangoes and I lose to cards with Monkeys […]
Tales from the Moonlit Path
- Dear Beloveds, We will be taking a break, both from evaluation of work submitted and publishing new works, during December, January, and most of February. Expect to hear back from us about any submitted work in February and see new works published on our site by March 2021. Thank youRead […]
- [On Crafting A] Throne World “Opinor ergo sum” — — my pen singing in the same key as a birthday candle’s dulcet surrender a wailing mother, a cooling Glock, an emergency call to prayer, a kiss hello, a welcome home. Of all the realms hidden between your synapses,Read […]
- The trees, shedding, drop an accumulation of colored leaves across the forest floor. The animals, passing, observe their falling and interpret them like tarot cards. Those leaves make the shape of a Pegasus about to take flight. The birds take solace in the image, knowing their journey will beRead […]
- cresting white dunes, a long, hot trek—watchsidewinders slither across the ghostly bonesof a prehistoric sea taste the alkali, the bitterness of lost waters against your thick tongue; the mirage in the distance taunts you with your thirst when you close your eyes plesiosaurs swim nearby— pressure bandsRead […]
- First, it was wine and an assortment of cheeses. Then a walk through the park, the jasmine air slithering mildly between them. Later, on her porch, when a younger couple might have kissed in fleeting secrecy, she said, “Can I interest you in a tour of my museum?” Yes, heRead […]
- The Seezali ship is visible ahead, darting in and out of asteroids as it approaches. Its crew apparently believes they are invisible but we Kalahamar can see through any cloaking device. The ship is twice the size of ours, but this won’t matter once we employ the Contraction. The thingRead […]
- It was like this: she was there until she wasn’t In the time it takes for the sun to dip below the ground She left everyone Towards new sights and new sounds New quiet like quiet she’d never known before New darkness like the darkness behind your eyelids can’t holdRead […]
- I hold your image in between my thumb and forefinger. The white has faded and has begun to yellow. The black-inked you captivate my imagination. A moment is captured, unaware, and lost in thought on a bustling Ohio street. Tall man. Smart suit. Porkpie hat. A tie fluttering a secondRead […]
- No-longer-living things are everywhere in this house. They shouldn’t be shocked by this. Not really. Not if they thought about it. No-longer-living things sit in their sinks too, and hide in their medicine cabinets, parade on countertops, loiter in corners of garages, and drape apathetically over chairs. Capitalist clutter fillsRead […]
- The World It Softly Lulls: Daria Dockery on Gender, The Ancestors, and The Land by Gabrielle Lawrence-CormierEarlier this year, Daria Dockery, an artist and internet friend tweeted, “when i accepted that my non-binary identity is about relating to my ancestors and not other non-binary people i got really free.” Intrigued by my own fascinations with memory and ancestry, and my own questions about gender, I pressedRead […]
Uncanny: A Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy
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- A stranger’s shirt on my back, sweat-sour, I weave a tangled arithmetic through a sea of ink to pawn off dented yellow helm and a pair of blue-stained sleeves for an onigiri. On the polished arcade floor leaning against a shuttered Westwood you are shamefully out of fashion, on […]
- The post Kalevala, an untelling appeared first on Uncanny Magazine.
- On the one hand, they had been her friends for so long, whispering in her ears, telling her stories, reciting poems, not just the sorts of things you would expect, Sappho and Hesiod, but Auden, Eliot, Yeats—they liked the modernists— and Sylvia Plath, Adrianne Rich— they were eclectic in their […]
- A paper can be folded seven times. Each crease across my origami skin is sharp enough to slice. I’ve tried to thin my bones and sinews, ink myself in lines so small, so shrinking, safe to overlook— passed between palms, a secret note in school, crumpled and cast […]
- on a glass pond the silver swan dips its head and swallows tiny iron fish quick, jerking gulps someone carved each feather with forgotten techniques and the bird winds down over decades, gears growing blunt-edged and bent I put you on a pedestal where […]
- Who do we think we’re kidding? As if the threshold was the infinitesimal, too— but spirit does linger. Bring honey, a black lamb, two firearms, and a woman’s dress, with the turning of the moon. Soon, I will turn thirty. Hope for the best. Hunting is my living, see, and […]
- Not ever to be born surely was the better choice! By cruel fate we’re torn. We lack a voice in our dreadful ends; we forever know and forever show the gods aren’t friends to any living thing…! Yet, though washed by sea, we also can’t be free of […]
- It’s complex, this idea of sorrow, this love of my son who is my husband, this one foot after another. Tomorrow is now, yesterday is when, never today. Moments wash away in morning’s mourning. Our children will know the shame of it, the blame of it, but the noose will […]
- Years ago, they drove a spear of blackened wood through the base of my spine, and when the bleeding stopped my skin grew around it, like bark around an axe left buried in a tree it couldn’t kill. Why does a tree keep reaching towards the sun— doesn’t it […]
- I make the bed as my mother taught me, smoothing sheets corner to corner, curve to curve, crisp and white, smelling of bleach and the flowery sachets she stuffs into linen closets and cedar chests, as if she could trick those cramped and lightless spaces to bloom. I fluff the […]