Fiction
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By Monty Rozema Scorpio 𖤓 | Scorpio ⏾ | Leo ↑ This pieces has been selected by our editors to be nominated for the 2026 Pushcart Prize. My dad always thinks there’s dogs barking – There’s not. He’s just losing it. I should know, because I come over twice a week to help look after
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By Lauren Stark Leo 𖤓 | Gemini ⏾ | Aquarius ↑ Oko looked down at their ba’s hand, which lay limp on top of their own in the sunset room. This hand had survived flood and fire, famine and revolt. It had rested suspended in serum on the ship that brought him to Elos, when
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By Elsie Steane You sit next to me on the bench. It is so much easier to have these conversations when one doesn’t have to look at the other. I imagine that is why confession booths are like that. And why the worst conversations all happen in the car. Tonight we have our confession booth.
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By Nadia Amina Rabbani Capricorn 𖤓 | Sagittarius ⏾ | Cancer ↑ I woke from a deep sleep. From such a deep sleep my brain fumbled to even remember what being awake was, what sleep was, and who I was. I didn’t remember falling asleep and though my vision felt crisp, I couldn’t really make
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By Mark Keane Samuel leafed through the user manual while Carol set up the laptop for him. A retirement gift, after forty years in the civil service. Not an end but the beginning of a new chapter, or so he’d been told at his retirement party. He was to use the laptop to explore the
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By Hayley Shucker Leo 𖤓 | Taurus ⏾ | Virgo ↑ You’re overjoyed because a secret room is all you’ve ever wanted in a house. It echoes the children’s stories that fed you twice a week at story hour. The ones full of magic and lions. Very unlike real life, the life of babysitting for
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By Buddy Ray Deering The crickets could barely be heard above the knight’s ragged breathing. She thought her heart rate should have slowed by now, but dying does funny things to a person. ‘I’m not dead yet,’ she reminded herself for the hundredth time in as many minutes, her voice little more than a whisper.
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By Jess Áine Barry “When the time is right,Fruit hangs low and ripe,Reap now what you have sown,Harvest what you have grown.” Apollonia crawled through the scrub, singing a verse from the Harvest Song softly under her breath. She remembered the last time she’d sung it. Her lips next to the brown belly of her
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By Ellen McQueen There was sand everywhere, that was the first thing that Lisa noticed about this place, this desolate desert wasteland called Dakhla, encased by dunes on three sides and the sea on the other. The wind blew sand all over her phone screen. It stuck to her fingers and dug under her manicure
A Curious Moon 