by Joseph S. Fusaro
I do not know how to reach you
But I can see that you need me
Maybe I need you
I don’t know
Everyone is going to think I am off the wall
Everyone is going to
How come in 2001 I didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought and then I turn 30 and all of a sudden every time I do not agree with the majority it is the end of my fucking world
Continue reading Reach You
by Neesa Suncheuri
A flash of sound, coming from
The wave of his wand…
He summons powers from
Continue reading Fantastical War at the Conservatory
by J.C. Hannigan
Here’s the thing about shitty relationships — when you’re in one, you don’t always know it, at least not right away. You can’t see it. You can’t see how damaging the relationship is to you, and you live in denial about it. You minimize the bad things because the good things, well…they’re good, and nobody’s perfect…right?
Continue reading Here’s the Thing About Shitty Relationships
The therapist is nondescript. She sits in front of Lily, nondescript brown hair hanging limply around her nondescript eyes and cheeks. The ambivalent half-whisper that emerges from her exceedingly ordinary lips is monotone. Her figure is thoroughly average, as are her dress and shoes. The pad of paper in her hands is appropriately stock, and the handwriting upon it is perfectly indistinguishable from that of every other person in the universe.
Continue reading Lily Padded by Grace Carpenter
Liquor drips like charred oil from her eyes as she looks at him in the rearview mirror. I hate that look. I turn and look out across the bridge, all dark blue sky stretching across the streetlamps and the rumbling waters below melting into the jazz wafting from the sidewalk bars. If they ever tell you that jazz is comforting, or peaceful, or inspiring, they’re all lying. Probably to themselves, too. Jazz will seduce you like the city itself and then you will have nothing left but a hangover and a bag of half-filled dreams and no idea what to do with either.
Continue reading Midnight in Paris by Grace Carpenter