Alone in the silence of my immigrant-family’s kitchen was the ubiquitous grainy black bread, butter in a porcelain dish left out to soften all day, and from the fridge tangy sausage or marinated fish.
Category: fiction
Fiction | Zygotic Algorithms – Alex Morrall
All those linking figures. All that expectation.
All of it singing to her.
COMFORT FOODS // Parádosi – Kalliste Hardy
In that bowl is something sacred, something only two people had witnessed the creation of. I ask Nene if this is what God felt like when he made the world. She tells me that we must feel better, because we never use a recipe.
Flash Fiction | Ouroboros — Leyda Mar
Our traveling was so fluid it’s like we lived nowhere in particular.
Flash Fiction | Salvage — Ian C Smith
Faces are remembered, words spoken; that brief encounter at the fair, the smell of old sunlight, a slow night train.
FICTION | Light of The World – Sue Beardon
How she longs for the asteroid to come, to show them how little they controlled anything.
Book Review: The Woman Dies by Aoko Matsuda, translated by Polly Barton – Arbnora Selmani
Reuniting with translator Polly Barton, Matsuda revisits similar themes in this new collection; across fifty-two stories, she tackles the pervasive misogyny faced by women in contemporary Japan and beyond.
FICTION | The Grammar of Forgetting – Jeffrey-Michael Kane
Desire could drain a reservoir. Fear could empty a playground. And someone like her would be left to label the files.
Book Review: House of Day, House of Night by Olga Tokarczuk, translated by Antonia Lloyd-Jones – Arbnora Selmani
“We are prompted to savour each word, carefully probing between our teeth to discover new morsels of meaning.”
FLASH FICTION | Blue Pieces of Sky – Mikki Aronoff
Stevie busies himself trying to match two blue pieces of sky. You watch him working the corners and the glands in your throat swell.
FICTION | Rooms: A Love Letter – Annemarie McCarthy
Inside the atoms of the cavity block extension live the remnants of a thousand John Players.
FICTION | Bruises – Keenan Lew
They say a lot of the work of being poly is scheduling. When I say ‘they’ I mean smug influencers with poorly produced podcasts, and when I say ‘being poly’ I hate myself.
