Among other things, this issue’s contributors are 'Galactic Superheroes.' Don’t believe me? Just read through. Get your oxygen tanks ready, 50 to 1 is going deep space on your ass! But not really. Authors include: Paul Mullin, Jackson Warfield, Scott Southard, Neal Kemet, Liz Haigh, Bint Arab, and Janel Gradowski.
Glen can't stop listening to the new Gorillaz album, Plastic Beach. Just sayin'.
Alone Time by Janel Gradowski
She slides her feet up the bathtub wall until her toes emerge from the water. She imagines her toes are luxury, beachfront hotels. She dreams of checking into one, alone. She ignores the thunderous crash, screaming and her husband’s pleas for help from the other side of the locked door.
Janel Gradowski is a daughter, wife, mother, dog owner, writer, jewelry designer, occasional teacher and blogger. She writes fiction to help maintain her sanity.
She slides her feet up the bathtub wall until her toes emerge from the water. She imagines her toes are luxury, beachfront hotels. She dreams of checking into one, alone. She ignores the thunderous crash, screaming and her husband’s pleas for help from the other side of the locked door.
Janel Gradowski is a daughter, wife, mother, dog owner, writer, jewelry designer, occasional teacher and blogger. She writes fiction to help maintain her sanity.
Why a fern would do such a thing by Bint Arab
Let me touch you. I am like a leaf that makes an impression on mud that becomes rock with a permanent engraving of another life. Schoolkids trudging through a museum will stare at it from behind the glass… maybe they are wondering why a fern would do such a thing.
Bint Arab is Iraqi American, born in Baghdad and raised in Brooklyn. Today she lives in Texas, where being a New Yorker makes her more of a stranger in a strange land than being Arab American ever could. She administers the writing forums at www.bibliophilia.org/forum/index.php and the online writers' showcase at www.bibliophilia.org.
Let me touch you. I am like a leaf that makes an impression on mud that becomes rock with a permanent engraving of another life. Schoolkids trudging through a museum will stare at it from behind the glass… maybe they are wondering why a fern would do such a thing.
Bint Arab is Iraqi American, born in Baghdad and raised in Brooklyn. Today she lives in Texas, where being a New Yorker makes her more of a stranger in a strange land than being Arab American ever could. She administers the writing forums at www.bibliophilia.org/forum/index.php and the online writers' showcase at www.bibliophilia.org.
Champagne by Liz Haigh
While doing the weekly shop at the supermarket, Margaret noticed champagne was half price. She decided to buy a bottle, it’s nice to have one in the house for when you have something unexpected to celebrate. When she got home she discovered her husband had died of a heart attack.
Liz Haigh lives in Cheshire, the UK where it rains a lot. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in, Apollo’s Lyre, Eclectic Flash, The Legendary, Linnet's Wings, Foundling Review, Blink, Bewildering Stories, Delivered and other places.
While doing the weekly shop at the supermarket, Margaret noticed champagne was half price. She decided to buy a bottle, it’s nice to have one in the house for when you have something unexpected to celebrate. When she got home she discovered her husband had died of a heart attack.
Liz Haigh lives in Cheshire, the UK where it rains a lot. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in, Apollo’s Lyre, Eclectic Flash, The Legendary, Linnet's Wings, Foundling Review, Blink, Bewildering Stories, Delivered and other places.
1st line by Neal Kemet
“Whenever and wherever we dig, looking for human artifacts, we find shattered bones of young males. It seems ancient young men, like modern ones, loved to die violently,” the archaeologist told me.
Neal Kemet received a Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Calgary and has taught in
Missouri. Currently he is an independent scholar writing from Marian, IL His most recent stories appeared in Danse Macabre and 50 to 1.
“Whenever and wherever we dig, looking for human artifacts, we find shattered bones of young males. It seems ancient young men, like modern ones, loved to die violently,” the archaeologist told me.
Neal Kemet received a Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Calgary and has taught in
Missouri. Currently he is an independent scholar writing from Marian, IL His most recent stories appeared in Danse Macabre and 50 to 1.
Billboard and a Bullhorn by Scott Southard
Sometimes after I’ve lost my fingers inside of her at night, I forget to wash my hands until after I have eaten breakfast the next day. On many occasions, until after lunch. These are the days I hope I’ve cooked bacon, eggs, and French toast for every person I know.
Scott Southard currently resides in Normal, IL and pays his rent by driving sandwiches to people in his car. He is constantly frustrated by the humor people seem to find in quoting the popular slogan of the sandwich shop franchise whenever he makes an unusually speedy delivery. He is also in the midst of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich eating challenge.
Sometimes after I’ve lost my fingers inside of her at night, I forget to wash my hands until after I have eaten breakfast the next day. On many occasions, until after lunch. These are the days I hope I’ve cooked bacon, eggs, and French toast for every person I know.
Scott Southard currently resides in Normal, IL and pays his rent by driving sandwiches to people in his car. He is constantly frustrated by the humor people seem to find in quoting the popular slogan of the sandwich shop franchise whenever he makes an unusually speedy delivery. He is also in the midst of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich eating challenge.
In College by Jackson Warfield
My roommate smiled and said, "you know you took a cab home from the bar again last night? The two, measly blocks?" I gave it some thought and laughed. When he asked why I was laughing, I said, "that explains the missing weed. I must have paid the cabbie with it."
Jackson Warfield lives in Portsmouth, NH and has the same pipe dream as many young poets, that one day he'll be able to live off the words and the drinks will come free. Until then he walks dogs and checks IDs for a living, and he buys PBRs. Fuck yeah.
My roommate smiled and said, "you know you took a cab home from the bar again last night? The two, measly blocks?" I gave it some thought and laughed. When he asked why I was laughing, I said, "that explains the missing weed. I must have paid the cabbie with it."
Jackson Warfield lives in Portsmouth, NH and has the same pipe dream as many young poets, that one day he'll be able to live off the words and the drinks will come free. Until then he walks dogs and checks IDs for a living, and he buys PBRs. Fuck yeah.
For "Place" by Paul Mullin
Ann was lonely in her own house, surrounded by ghost-marriage remnants and an unwinnable fight to make the basement less musty. She needed something – more aptly, somewhere – but she couldn’t imagine how to begin. She took an exasperated swig of coffee and sighed. The basement wasn’t going to clean itself.
Paul Mullin is a freelance newspaper reporter from New Jersey. He is a proud member of The Broad Set Writing Collective and just started his own fancy new blog, The Germ of the Idea. He hopes that, one day, he will have a full-time job with benefits.
Ann was lonely in her own house, surrounded by ghost-marriage remnants and an unwinnable fight to make the basement less musty. She needed something – more aptly, somewhere – but she couldn’t imagine how to begin. She took an exasperated swig of coffee and sighed. The basement wasn’t going to clean itself.
Paul Mullin is a freelance newspaper reporter from New Jersey. He is a proud member of The Broad Set Writing Collective and just started his own fancy new blog, The Germ of the Idea. He hopes that, one day, he will have a full-time job with benefits.