Grave to Cradle

by Cathy Haustein ​ When she got the message, she was surprised. Celeste, a maiden lady, a scientist, who lived with and supported her elderly parents in the midsized town of Cedar Rapids, had forgotten all about the prize, a meeting with Isaac Newton–brought back to life by HiGenTek. Her mother had died that spring and the speed at which the undertaker whisked away the still warm body in a zippered bag woke her to the possibility that she was running out of time. ​After the mortician took the body to be cremated her father turned to her and said, … Continue reading Grave to Cradle

Thoughts of a Tiger Cub

by Lucy Wan I grew up in my grandmother’s kitchen to the smell of raisin bread and fried rice, learning to tuck a chopstick-full of meat into floury blanket- dumpling. I grew up with hua bei bei and longevity buns, the peach-shaped pink like the swelling of my ruddy cheeks. I grew up with noodles and pancakes on my birthdays, lit candles on top of grocery store and moon cake. I grew up confused by math & unfamiliar faces, and what scales & mirrors told me- My mother’s laughter, and father’s silence. I grew up on weak ankles, stubby fingers, … Continue reading Thoughts of a Tiger Cub

As Seen on TV

by Anastasia Kalos Graffiti stenciled by an unknown auteur glares down at the riot police and states “Democracy from a box: As Seen on TV.” The two dimensional man in the TV looks like Rod Serling and enters the third dimension by displaying a single finger salute. It’s another day in 21st century Athens. Flares burn red and tear gas sashays through the furious crowds. Stella pulls her scarf up around her chin and over her balaclava. Her lips quiver and her throat is like sandpaper from launching words like hollow point bullets. Coppers, swine, murderers. A water cannon cuts … Continue reading As Seen on TV

Regrets in a Total Column

by Charlotte De’Ath an empty condom packet top three-quarters frenzy torn jagged edges of the moment when three blouse buttons (from a blouse i no longer own) pinged off as you ripped it open to get to my nipples as if you was a child at christmas last quarter of a bottle of pernod i might drink the rest today then masturbate replacing you’re presence with slippy recall of blesséd penis angels one pound twenty seven pence in loose change that i found on the floor (must have fallen out of your trousers) but that i mistook as ninja sarcasm … Continue reading Regrets in a Total Column


by Charlotte De’Ath as laura treadle turns the wheel her lithe fingers work the wet clay moulding the rounded curves of donna bright eyed giggling playfully rolling around on laura’s bed casually chatting about her clitoris and nipples through her orchid flower mouth but laura has to concentrate on moisture and so she waits waits whilst in the kiln rose petals she had painted with scented brush licks passionately burn red and green honeysuckle leaves coil to the lip but do not talk or whisper reclining in donna’s porcelain arms that circumnavigate her heart longing for that first kiss but … Continue reading Shattered

The Ophelia Syndrome

Charlotte De’Ath (the miss haversham scenario) on the suburban stained mattress of a semi-detached bed her life from little girl to widow cut short comes to a spinster end and all because he just had to find out what taste was on natasha’s lips inhale her cunt’s hot glowing scent and how well his cock would fit inside natasha slut with golden hair handmade tits and long long barbie legs (the duties of a bridesmaid) i laid down on the reedy bed next to the bride full of bubbly turpentine who shot her bridegroom down in flames and still in … Continue reading The Ophelia Syndrome