There are reasons for recurring dreams, he says. My therapist. He holds the keys to the inside of my head, but he won’t use them. He expects me to manage this alone, with the butter knife I use as a screwdriver. The only tool I ever had. He lists the reasons—anxiety due to unmet needs,… Read More All the Colors of Red ~ creative nonfiction by Mollie McLean
Since the early days of the zine, we’ve featured a DONATE button in the right-hand sidebar. Feel free to use it when you discover something amazing here, and one day maybe we’ll have a jar of cash substantial enough to pay our writers a little something. Humbly, we could also benefit from some help with… Read More Semi-occasional Fundraising Appeal
Here we are again, in the thick of awards nomination season, and it’s time for the Pushcart Prize! I say this with all sincerity, that it’s getting almost impossible to pluck a few titles from the array of spectacular writing we feature every year, and the Pushcarts make it even harder by limiting the nominations… Read More Pushcart Prize Nominations 2025
Case Number: AT 04/05/01 3072 Incident: Foiled hiatus breaker attempt Reporting Officer: Ibrahim Badran, Police Constable Date of Report: 10/2/2020 At about 12:10 on February 10, 2019, I met with Mr. Djinn at Al Majdool Road regarding a foiled hiatus breaker attempt. Mr. Djinn said that he was a suspended djinn. He stated he was… Read More Case Number: AT 04/05/01 3072 ~ fiction by Roopa Raveendra
A man named Yeah chose the daisy box for me. I am already assuming too much. I imagine that Yeah is a man, and that he pronounces “Yeah” the way I do. I believe we all pronounce “Yeah” the same way underground. But Yeah’s mouth may stretch it, bubble gum pink across three syllables or… Read More Yeah ~ creative nonfiction by Angela Townsend
Torch Song His normal identity: Johnny Storm.1 I tell him: Now that’s a hero’s name. The Human Torch? That’s every man2 I’ve dated, who’ll burn you every time after making promises. Doesn’t matter if he’s a hot-headed superhero3 or not. When you don’t have a secret identity, why do you even need an alter ego? But… Read More Torch Song ~ poetry by Ronnie Sirmans
VII. Mother never mentions my brother. She keeps him in a box. He is endless but divided by even perforations. He has so many ears. Mother lets him out when she studies biology and anatomy. I can’t hear whether he volunteers to help mother summarize the key steps in post-surgery infection prevention. A dot matrix… Read More Three Poems ~ poetry by Jason Fraley
It was the time I could and couldn’t (a villanelle) You know how this goes. You knew this was coming. Soon, evening and the filly is in the dirt pit. And my feelings are spiraling out of control I thought I wasn’t my father’s daughter until I disappointed you again. I think I will wear… Read More It was the time I could and couldn’t (a villanelle) ~ poetry by Samantha Moe
You, the consummate gentleman, bring me a paper plate of Little Caesars pepperoni and mushroom, my favorite. It gets me moist when you remember this intimate factoid. I ask, since it’s only us, should we light some candles? You squirm, shake your head, say, “It’s pizza.” Whatever. All I found in the Youth Group’s pantry… Read More Two Excellent People Burning ~ fiction by Travis Flatt
Alright, Listen SCENARIO I We’re naked and playing guitar, writing love songs that don’t quite rhyme while we drink to all the ghosts who haunt our lives. SCENARIO II I heard a rumor you were selfish and self-consumed, suffocating on the leather gags of your own ego. I crave the peanut butter way you lie… Read More Alright, Listen ~ poetry by Hillary Smith-Maddern
or, The Modern Prometheus I see myself, waving at the window, raving with Victor Frankenstein, I see myself, drunk as all hell, me drunk, Victor drunk, Victor ready to sin his way into heaven, I see myself, staggering baby-like towards the operating table, fun fact it was never lightning that brought the beast to life,… Read More or, The Modern Prometheus ~ poetry by Jennifer Jantzen
The Blob (1958, dir. Irvin Yeaworth) It falls to earth. It starts to grow & grow & grow. It eats poor Barney and then Kate and then it eats the stuff inside the doctor’s office then it eats the doctor’s car and then it eats the doctor too before heading downtown and this whole time… Read More The Blob (1958, dir. Irvin Yeaworth) ~ poetry by Rosalind Shoopmann
Spa Day My lips are creased with smoking indents. A patchwork valentine shape. “They’re beautiful,” the aesthetician notes, “but you’re too young for static wrinkles.” Active wrinkles, she explains, are accepted at thirty. “We weren’t built to be impassive,” she winks. We cry at birth. That’s where they come in. Snails. Toffee colored, completely selfless.… Read More Three Hybrids ~ fiction by Emma Raimondo
Dottie and I are happy to announce this year’s Best of the Net nominations. As usual, we don’t take these decisions lightly, and it’s always difficult to make the granular distinctions between one piece and another when they’re all so good. As I always complain, Best of the Net doesn’t make it any easier by… Read More 2024 Best of the Net Nominations
Self-Preservation 101 I was told to never eat while standing, to leave the wood floor hungry. The mop would hunt the crumbs of childhood and the cheese noodles shaped like cartoons. I’d squint to catch autumn’s eye, gathering the ruched orange war. In the backyard I’d make bones out of wine glasses to separate the… Read More Self-Preservation 101 ~ poetry by Nicole F. Kimball
Let us assume that Stuart finds himself somewhere roughly ten thousand feet up, eyelids and Abercrombie blazer fluttering in the wind whistling past him as he plunges toward the copper-colored land below, the sting of ice crystals in his nostrils. How he got there is of no importance. (Though it does cross Stuart’s mind that… Read More The Velocity of Remedial Math ~ fiction by Elizabeth Rosen
Insomnia on a Theme From Brecht My bedroom isn’t big enough. It’s full of archangels —Bertolt Brecht First Psalm They hover—bright, voiceless shapes hunting names. No sleep will take him now. Afraid of dreams that drop simple, small clues. When they first came he asked them to stay. He’d keep his bed clean… Read More Insomnia on a Theme From Brecht ~ poetry by Mark J. Mitchell
Victoria Nordlund is the Poet Laureate of Glastonbury, CT, and lead master teaching artist of the The Nook Farm Writers Collaborative at The Mark Twain House & Museum. Her poetry collections Wine-Dark Sea and Binge Watching Winter on Mute are published by Main Street Rag. She is a Best of the Net and Pushcart Prize… Read More I am in a field/or maybe a cemetery/ ~ poetry by Victoria Nordlund
At the cove, my father explained holothurians to me: the sea cucumber. He had been quiet all day, but he was excited now that he had seen one on a rock just under the surface. We looked down into the clear water at the holothurian. It had dots on its cylindrical body like eyes on a… Read More Holothurian ~ fiction by Addison Zeller
Shoving Lanthanides and Actinides to a corner of my head, I recite B, C, N, O, F like a sacred psalm, organic elements swirling in the universe, my brain wrapped in Neon jiggles for you, like Iron flashing its yearning, if I could twist a pair of pliers to change your mind, implacable and inert… Read More Periodic Thoughts ~ poetry by Christine H. Chen
This movie will open with a drone shot that swoops over a dappled body of water towards a glittering urban skyline. Or with its central character facing the camera, answering questions from an unseen interrogator. Or with a traumatic confrontation that will later prove to be a flashback. This movie will explore a flawed but lovable protagonist prone… Read More This Movie ~ fiction by Carolyn R. Russell
Sitting on lawn chairs at the edge of the world we eat sandwiches and watch ancient monsoons rip harmlessly across space, tantrums in exile. I sip cold milk. You swig from a flask, screw the cap closed counterclockwise, how they do things in this hemisphere. You point to the birth of two baby seagulls in… Read More Sound of a Train From A Previous Life ~ fiction by Guy Biederman
The ringmaster holds my right hand as we stroll. A clown galumphs on my left. We parade down the hospital corridor following the double, yellow-taped lines to operating theater three. No urgency today. No gurney or wheelchair either. Because, they tell me, this is a standard outpatient procedure. The questionnaire asked: Have you ever breastfed?… Read More And Now You Will Need a Very Sharp Knife ~ fiction by Catherine Chiarella Domonkos
Claudio reties his apron as he waits for the barbarian to order. When the beast flips a hankie out from under a flap in his leather kilt, he catches the glint of a sword tucked up against the man’s massive girth. “Venti, triple shot, half caff macchiato, extra caramel with whip,” the barbarian says and… Read More Starbucks on the Corner of Appian Way and the Forum, 476 A.D. ~ fiction by Virginia Nelson
No one knows when the baby crawled back to the door and started putting footwear in his mouth again. He’s teething, someone said, they have an urge to do that. A girl ran to inform the mother, who came rushing, stop, she said, I’ve said before, stop. The baby cried, thick tears in his round,… Read More Chewing Slippers ~ fiction by Tara Isabel Zambrano
Follow Ros to the party house, where colored lights churn from the windows into the night sky like a collapsing star. Let her grab your hand, weave you through swaying crowds into a room containing every other person on earth, living, dead, or otherwise. Dance with ghosts. Watch Ros dance. While you dance, close your… Read More Afterparty ~ fiction by Chelsea Bouchard
Safety Bucket Days after the latest headline, the school supplied each room with a safety bucket. Ms. Stevens removed each item one-by-one in front of the reverent class. There was a length of paracord to tie off the door and make a second lock if the first didn’t hold or a window was smashed to… Read More Safety Bucket ~ fiction by Aaron Sandberg
Octavia’s future arrives in a box small enough to fit in her coat pocket. She removes the plastic wrap, careful to tug the scared furball out of its package without getting scratched. Warming the tiny creature in the palm of her hand, she whispers “you’re home” as instructed by the Owner’s Manual. At the sound… Read More Buyer Beware ~ fiction by Phebe Jewell
A Wild Heart She is turning into a cat that offers dead mice to its owners. Her chat window with him is a one-sided list of songs and sentences from books he will never read. She is turning into a penguin that offers stones to its partner. She sends him a list of cities, of… Read More A Wild Heart ~ poetry by Shikha Valsalan
I’m delighted to announce that four of our contributors have been tapped to appear in the Best Microfiction 2024 anthology. Congratulations to Audra Kerr Brown, Suzanne Hicks, Kati Bumbera, and Jon Doughboy. Here are the links to their stories: When the Cowbirds Come to Carry Your Sister Away ~ Audra Kerr Brown Reservoir ~ Suzanne… Read More Best Microfiction Picks Four of Ours!
Rub your eye stye all over his face towels. Drool on his pillows. Dream of wrapping his head in cellophane. Lower sunglasses on your aquiline nose and stare with disdain at his beach potbelly. Tsk out loud. Offer no praise. Stay unadorned and scratchy. Leave your unpainted nails (toe and finger) raggy and unfiled. Lick… Read More Gracious Departure ~ fiction by Nancy Ford Dugan
The Hoyer Lift is a medical device designed to facilitate in the movement of the elderly or movement-impaired. Using it, a skilled health-care worker can transfer a patient from wheelchair to bed in less than sixty seconds. The rubberized plates at the base of the lift platform allow a degree of personal dignity – with… Read More The Hoyer Lift ~ creative nonfiction by Zary Fekete
In the third month of our relationship, we attend a Bonnard exhibition. There is a feeling that the exhibition might go on forever; one room of artwork endlessly spilling into another. I have a thought that our relationship could be like that, with no sense of an ending, just a series of experiences tumbling into… Read More You Never Know Which Artwork Will Stay with You, Becoming Entirely Beloved, Entirely Necessary ~ fiction by Sumitra Singam
Slash for Captain Marvel #15 그녀의 문제는 그녀의 목욕 내부를 두 번. One candle flickers beside the bed. 그녀는 자신의 성기에 반지를 넣어. I put the box on the table. 그녀는 저지대 내 슬래시을 공부했다. Improvements were made to my shoe. 우리는 꿀벌, 일부 그물과 케이크와 함께 제공되었다. I am surprised to see a nice shine on her skin. 그녀는 하늘에서 깃털의 몸을 좋아하지 않았다. I interfere with feathers in her lap. Zombie Game This is a zombie game.… Read More Two Poems ~ poetry by Glen Armstrong
She stares across the desk at me in a way that makes me feel naked. I button my cardigan right up to the top. “Look,” she says, “It’s either this or the call centre. You’ll be sanctioned if you turn down a job that’s offered to you.” I shiver, despite the buttoned-up cardi. I worked… Read More It’s Either This Or The Call Centre ~ fiction by Alison Wassell
It’s the end of one year and the start of another, and that means it’s time for our Best Small Fictions nominations. It probably makes sense that each of these pieces was nominated for one of the other annual awards: Best of the Net, Pushcarts, and Best Microfiction. To be perfectly frank, I could have… Read More Best Small Fictions Nominations 2024
What’s your child’s name? What grade is she in? What’s her daily routine? Does she brush her teeth every morning? Does she cry every night? What school does she go to? How are her grades? Have you observed behavioral changes? Does she startle at small noises? Flinch when classmates raise hands? Drop her books at… Read More Questions The Caseworker Should Have Asked After My Ex Accused Me of Neglect ~ fiction by Barbara Diggs
Once again, I was delighted to see that we published a number of stories this year that qualify for the Best Microfiction anthology, which limits writers to 400 words. Among the qualifiers were these terrific standouts: When the Cowbirds Come to Carry Your Sister Away ~ Audra Kerr Brown Avery and Jacob ~ Perry Genovesi… Read More Best Microfiction 2024 Nominations
Eliot Li lives in California. His work appears or is forthcoming in Swamp Pink, MoonPark Review, AAWW’s The Margins, SmokeLong Quarterly, Best Small Fictions 2023, and elsewhere. He’s on twitter @EliotLi2.
The Disappointed Housewife 