Finally, I had some time to put together a new [FANTASTIC] issue of 50 to 1. It is called 'Fact or Fiction' and it smells like words. It’s up to you to decide. Rebecca Anne Renner, Lindsay M. Downing, Nathan Blake, Maggie Eismeier, Carolyn Nash, Michael Shammas, and Rebecca Gaffron.
Glen is busy beyond all belief. Alliteration by accident is awesome. [See what I did there?] eNJoy the issue!
Xanthic Moon by Rebecca Gaffron
Run with me up the hill. Run fast! Past the house on the end of the street, to the grassy lunar pier. From there we can climb on and ride into the stars. The hush of inky black will wash over us, before we fall and crash, broken, into reality.
Rebecca Gaffron is fascinated by sea-green spaces, words, and men who behave like cats. She is a sometimes writer and can be found at her virtual home - http://rebeccawriting.wordpress.com.
Run with me up the hill. Run fast! Past the house on the end of the street, to the grassy lunar pier. From there we can climb on and ride into the stars. The hush of inky black will wash over us, before we fall and crash, broken, into reality.
Rebecca Gaffron is fascinated by sea-green spaces, words, and men who behave like cats. She is a sometimes writer and can be found at her virtual home - http://rebeccawriting.wordpress.com.
1st line by Michael Shammas
She found me--lost--in a dream, wandering forever onward.
Michael Shammas is currently a sophomore at Duke University studying Political Science and English. In his free time he enjoys writing, reading, and hanging out with friends. He is currently writing a novel-length manuscript. You can visit his blog at www.michaelshammas.webs.com.
She found me--lost--in a dream, wandering forever onward.
Michael Shammas is currently a sophomore at Duke University studying Political Science and English. In his free time he enjoys writing, reading, and hanging out with friends. He is currently writing a novel-length manuscript. You can visit his blog at www.michaelshammas.webs.com.
The First Time by Carolyn Nash
It was a drunken fight. He hissed, Hit me if you want.
Afterwards her palm stung. Her blood made a noise like thunder in her head. It’s ok, he said when she cried. He thought it was drunken crying.
She bit her lip and wondered when she'd do it again.
Carolyn Nash never checks her voicemail. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Cicada, New York Press, the Detroit Free Press, and Foundling Review. She writes here.
It was a drunken fight. He hissed, Hit me if you want.
Afterwards her palm stung. Her blood made a noise like thunder in her head. It’s ok, he said when she cried. He thought it was drunken crying.
She bit her lip and wondered when she'd do it again.
Carolyn Nash never checks her voicemail. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Cicada, New York Press, the Detroit Free Press, and Foundling Review. She writes here.
1st line by Maggie Eismeier
She had just enough freckles for me to notice.
Maggie Eismeier will soon be a freshman at Whitman College. She likes writing, mathematics, coffee, and wax.
She had just enough freckles for me to notice.
Maggie Eismeier will soon be a freshman at Whitman College. She likes writing, mathematics, coffee, and wax.
Satan's Zamboni by Nathan Blake
Satan’s Zamboni in the canyoned driveway. Bloody bushes and trails of torture. Loneliness. Claire had been gone 3 months, left him forever. The apartment silent. He felt each day grip his deepest recess, never filled, not least by the Zamboni’s long-rusted bolts rotating hollow behind Claire's first prospect of ice.
Nathan Blake is still a student. School him. He sometimes has trouble finding restrooms, but if you play your cards right, he just might find yours.
Satan’s Zamboni in the canyoned driveway. Bloody bushes and trails of torture. Loneliness. Claire had been gone 3 months, left him forever. The apartment silent. He felt each day grip his deepest recess, never filled, not least by the Zamboni’s long-rusted bolts rotating hollow behind Claire's first prospect of ice.
Nathan Blake is still a student. School him. He sometimes has trouble finding restrooms, but if you play your cards right, he just might find yours.
The end comes. By Lindsay M. Downing
You hum a tune, standing in the kitchen alone with a paring knife. It is silent – so silent your breathing can be heard all around you. You are sharpening the knife, back and forth like the push and pull of the ocean. You take the knife. Hold it steady. Then.
Lindsay M. Downing works as a freelance writer in Lincoln, Nebraska with her family and friends.
You hum a tune, standing in the kitchen alone with a paring knife. It is silent – so silent your breathing can be heard all around you. You are sharpening the knife, back and forth like the push and pull of the ocean. You take the knife. Hold it steady. Then.
Lindsay M. Downing works as a freelance writer in Lincoln, Nebraska with her family and friends.
Policy by Rebecca Anne Renner
The waiting room at Halifax Hospital smells like tile, infants, and
soap dust. After four hours, a nurse took David away in a wheelchair.
“Policy.” She licked the word like a tease tongues a banana.
This has little to do with last night, I’m sure. God, I loved his appendix.
Rebecca Anne Renner was born and raised in the Sunshine State, where she currently lives and goes to school at Stetson University. While not writing questionable poetry or trying to finish her third novel, she volunteers at a wildlife rehabilitation center and complains about the weather. Her work has appeared or is upcoming in Pedestal Magazine and Mothering Magazine among others. She is also Editor-in-Chief of Barrier Islands Review.
The waiting room at Halifax Hospital smells like tile, infants, and
soap dust. After four hours, a nurse took David away in a wheelchair.
“Policy.” She licked the word like a tease tongues a banana.
This has little to do with last night, I’m sure. God, I loved his appendix.
Rebecca Anne Renner was born and raised in the Sunshine State, where she currently lives and goes to school at Stetson University. While not writing questionable poetry or trying to finish her third novel, she volunteers at a wildlife rehabilitation center and complains about the weather. Her work has appeared or is upcoming in Pedestal Magazine and Mothering Magazine among others. She is also Editor-in-Chief of Barrier Islands Review.