Troy James Weaver
“A crashing of glass, the candles and lamps out of flame, a voice like a whisper coming at me from all angles, then a light at first dim then coming on brighter and brighter in the mirror.” New fiction by Troy James Weaver.
“Shit that was once flowers became shit again.” New fiction by Evelyn Hampton.
“Dad stands staring at the stolen sundresses in my closet.” New fiction by Meg Pokrass.
From Dolan Morgan’s surreal graphic novel How to Have Sex on Other Planets, Neptune “is going to show you what’s behind those closed doors.”
“Guy fieri learned his first discomfort popping the coyote milk in discrete plops unlike the gentle flow that came from george w bush.” New fiction by Bobby Dixon.
“Another decade passes, and he’s a hundred years old. He’s served sixty years of a two hundred and fifty year sentence.” New fiction by Kieran Devaney.
“There were uniforms, and then hijabs ripped off of women’s heads. Shrieking. Hair, blood. Red in black. And slammed doors. Pop-pop-pop. Firing in the distance, in the hills.” New fiction by Rachael Daum.
Hilary Plum offers up an excerpt from her novel, Strawberry Fields, winner of the Fence Modern Prize in Prose, about the Iraq war and journalism.
“For two months I lived in a hostel in Columbus, Ohio. There were five of us altogether. There were two heroin addicts. There was Keith. And there was Chloe.” New fiction by Joseph Grantham.
“His design had 1,500 pieces in 9 different colors—from beige for the skin to electric blue for the pantsuit.” New fiction by Lynn Mundell.