Soon, the world will be destroyed by sound, and I will make it into music. The sounds that are being created everywhere have already driven the mammals out of the forest, and the birds are almost gone; soon, the trees will shrink
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Hooked by Elijah Woodruff Frederick Guttzeit by Paul Smith Memory Ghost by Kat Caldwell Flesh and Blood by Grace Tynski Crab by Ace Chu
There are voices in the room waking me from my hibernation. They aren’t arguing, but there is a strange excitement in their speech. My cardboard box lifts into the air, swings over a small distance before settling back down again. On something
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People underestimate the end of life as you know it. If you had asked me weeks ago, I’d have said it’d probably be horrific and quick. A mushroom cloud blossoming into the air, a few screams, and then darkness. If not a
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It isn’t weird, is it, to wander around cemeteries? I don’t think so. I like the cemetery where my family is buried. There are my grandparents, my parents, and my Uncle Bud. I was really close to him. Every fall, when the
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Inspired by Elizabeth Bishop’s “Strayed Crab.” I’ve been thinking about crabs. I’ve been watching my pet crab Herbert in his little tank, specifically designed to his comfort. There is a sandy area above the water that slopes gently into a watery playground,
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Möbius Band by Jie Wang The Body of a Hero by Abby Sundeen Cleaning Day by Amber Beck Wandering Men by Kenneth Gulotta The Haunted Tea Set by Sarah Jackson
By every measure of logic, between the body and the soul, the body is not the narrator. That is the responsibility of the soul, the storyteller, while the body, the storykeeper, logs it all in scars and nightmares. This nightmare in particular is
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The interrogator paused outside the door, looking down the hall at something or someone, and then he walked into the room, carrying a thick stack of red folders that were interlarded with loose pieces of white paper. He set them on the
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Iris didn’t see her mother again until three months after her funeral. She was at the computer in her spare room, searching Freecycle for a sugar spoon. Beside her, steam spiraled from a cream china cup with a delicate pattern of pink
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