Jenny sees Eva’s gaze drop to Jenny’s shoes. This is it. It’s over.
She smiles, pretending they just met. Pretending she was never afraid of Eva, like nothing ever happened. Fake it till you make it. Whatever gets her out in one piece.
“How funny that we have the same shoes, huh?”
The successful ticket machine would reply cheerfully to each order… would provide enough agitation and compliance to let someone yell at it, let them explode while it sits silently. But all of these actions would be purely surface level. The machine won’t ache for a better life, for fulfillment. The best android won’t long to be human. Continue reading
You too can be good at math if you spend your days bashing your head against it and your nights wondering why it doesn’t love you back. Continue reading
And yet the silence left holes in my bones and I realized how much I wanted you to speak to me but you weren’t speaking to me, and inside I felt like the blue part of the fire, the part that’s the most hot. Continue reading
But the stories I’ve selected for Issue 4 all immediately made me put down my cheese and focus. I even had to sit up because I was laughing and it’s hard to lie on my back and laugh with cheese in my mouth. You try it. Continue reading
What happens when previous contributors become editors? You get issue 4. Visit the editor spotlight for Kamala Puligandla, Courtney Kersten, and Yasmin Belkhyr to refresh on why they became editors for May and June. We can’t wait to share this issue with you. With poetry by: Jamison Crabtree, Meggie Royer, Kelly Jones, Maya Jewell … Continue reading
I like the idea of editing for a publication that isn’t wedded to one style and is truly open to variation. There’s something fun and unexpected about picking work that won’t necessarily be paired with its close relatives. Continue reading
My Friend Jesus by Kamala Puligandla My friend Jesus says he usually goes by Chuey or Chuchi or Leon, which is his last name, but considering that we’ve just officially met, and we’re at school—“a very official place,” he says—he’ll have me call him Jesus. “Thanks,” I say. “Yeah,” he says offhandedly and then stares … Continue reading