The honeymoon patch of sunlight grew darker, obscured by the thick tangle of unknowing surrounding us.
I looked up. She hummed silently. The song resonated in her eyes, as if seeing the work already done.
I followed her, also humming, and we worked together, feeling ourselves victors through the pain.
Every day Sasha tries to give his heart to his writing, and every day his cat, Sebald, snatches it up for himself. Find his words and cat pics on Instagram and Facebook at @sashaandsebald.
Squatting, thighs slightly burning, perched on your toes, hands in front of your shoulders, you place your head on the ground. Knees digging into your triceps, you tentatively lift one foot, then the other. Your left knee slips, so you try again, then again, until, one year later, you arrive.
Jess is a former scientist who maintains computational model code for current scientists. She occasionally gets the urge to write something other than lines of Python or Fortran.
The Scottish Highlanders had to leave.
As they sailed out of the harbor, their dogs swam alongside their ships, not understanding.
Most turned back. But one strong dog, who loved too much, would not.
After many miles and waves, a ship pulled that dog aboard for the long journey west.
Adele has loved many dogs. She is sure that at least one of them was descended from the dog that loved too much.
Joe strips his first-date clothes.
Mouth open, he pulls down his tongue, unzips his skin suit, head to crotch.
He reaches inside and pulls out his heart. The heart looks like china—shattered, then glued back together. More than once.
Joe sheds the skin. A young man emerges, heart intact.
Maura gets paid to be a nerd and writes short fiction so she’ll be less of a pain in the neck to those around her. Read her publications at maurayzmore.com or come say ‘hi’ on Twitter.
One thousand nine hundred steps to the top.
The food poisoning from the night before writhed within her stomach. After four days of hiking, she was determined to see the sunrise at the summit. She hurled twice, on step 949 and step 1,245.
The glory of step 1,900 was unmatched.
Jennifer Masson wrote this story.
She was never good at gardening.
Each of her interests she only held briefly. Art, acting, writing, physics, she gave up on them all quickly. She planted the seeds and sat there waiting for them to grow.
But she neglected to water them and impatiently nipped them in the bud.
Lulu wrote this story.