Fiction

“I’ve Got A Bad Feeling About This,” by Ella Moon

Dec 20th, 2020 | By

Single. Solitary. Solo. Some other word for alone. A bee does a 360-degree swoop around my hair before diving head-first into the lavender bush beside me, and I’m too depressed to even react. Shockingly, falling in love with the first guy to wink at me from across a cadaver wasn’t a good idea, but that didn’t stop me, did it? I blame my mother. If a woman’s lit professor who spent the last twenty years raising me couldn’t teach me that lesson, who could have?



“Creative Differences at Illuminati Headquarters,” by Kevin Binder

Dec 20th, 2020 | By

On Monday, Jeff says that Our illustrious brand voice needs a “refresh.”

“What do you mean?” Molly asks, taking off her headphones (Beats by Dre, as is decreed). “What’s wrong with our voice?”

“It’s old. Stale. I feel like when people think of us—when they think ‘Illuminati’—they imagine old men in smoke-drenched suits who undermine humanity’s progress for their own gain. They don’t picture trendy, relatable go-getters who… just so happen to undermine humanity’s progress for their own gain.”



“Cat Owners,” by Tim Oke

Dec 20th, 2020 | By

‘You’re worried you’re losing your magic as a couple?’ Olivia asked.

‘Kind of. I look at our parents, and I don’t want that for us. I want something more,’ Jasmine said. She wished Olivia was older, grey haired and with large round spectacles that’s the kind of marriage counselor she wanted. Not early twenties, sleek jawed and toned shouldered.

‘What’s wrong with our parents? You’re so condescending about normal lives. As if we’re not normal. As if we’re above that. Superhuman, or something,’ Matt said, rolling his eyes.



“An Unopened Letter to Shirley,” by Raymond Lane

Aug 20th, 2020 | By

I hope that this letter finds you well. My apologies for using such an archaic form of communication, but as you know Earth has yet to join the intergalactic web.



“The Donation,” by Sarah Boisvert

Aug 20th, 2020 | By

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” Pastor Pete said as he placed his hand on my son’s head, the baby reached for his Christian fish necklace as it dangled over him. My husband, Joe, and I smiled at each other. It was our only child’s baptism. Joe and I weren’t exactly devout but we decided we would start going to church, a sort of tradition for our new son. The baby began to fuss as water rolled over his fuzzy little head, washing over my hand, cleansing me of my sins as well.