Waiting Room by Sylvie Soulet In a roomful of people, in a place you don’t know, for a reason you can’t fathom, how long will you last until your name is called?

Two Girls in a Truck by Kai Miro

image by Riley Edwards

Chicken doesn’t cross the road, it roars down the middle

Image by Ivan Aleksic @ivalex the chute by Krista Sanford.

the gray, cold box stands behind a closed closet door. the bottom of the box unsealed, creating a hole that connects the upstairs from the downstairs. dust floats off the lid every time it creak, creak, creaks open. the dust trickles down the side of the gray, cold box and falls to the floor, where dead boxes of cereal lay. dead boxes that chose peace instead of suffering. fruit loops, cheerios, trix.

by Eda Obey

Even in springtime there are terrors you do not expect. One of my worst memories of growing up on a farm involved an amateur's butchering of my pet rooster. 

by D.D. Christopher

Lunch is sacred. Beware sticky paws. The Goddess of cubicle justice is coming for you.

The Ghost of Sunday Dinner

By Eve Morton

Cassandra was staring at the mashed potatoes when she saw the ghost for the first time. She was wondering whether or not to eat, like always. She thought back to Hamlet, studied in her makeshift classroom in the hospital, and rephrased that famous line as 'to eat or not to eat?' She laughed. She thought she was being clever.

That was when the ghost showed up.

Sometimes the family business is more gruesome than legends say.

by Eda Obey An epic family feud over a holiday treat that ends in the best damn eggnog recipe you’ll ever lay a lip across.

by Kay Hanifen The mortification of a young queer girl’s church and subsequent exorcism brings about unexpected results.

by R.K. Lewis The lone girl at the gas station turns out to be not the easy victim they thought. image by BJ Jensen

One there was and once there was not a young priest named Father Alric. Of all things, he loved God best—except for men, beautiful lithe men, the artisans that worked in the cathedrals, shepherds that brought their flocks to graze in the fields nearby, the workmen that drove cartloads of rocks and supplies for the church. Their rough, thick hands gripping reins of leather could send him into a cold sweat. He would retire to his cell in the grip of desire and if he gripped himself during that cold fire, he would spend the evening clutching his crucifix and whipping himself bloody in repentance.

A mother’s love knows no bounds when celebrating her child’s birthday. She’s willing to do anything including selling a piece of herself.

by

Trisha McKee

Nothing was going to come between Sherry and her hobby, not even the death of her husband.

by Martinne Corbeau

Once there was and once there was not a girl born in a brothel in the Latin Quarter of Paris. Her mother was popular and her father unknown. Wishing a better life for her daughter than her own, her mother sent her to the kitchens of Paris to learn a more respected trade and shield her from the harsher truths of life.

by Martinne Corbeau

My lips and fingers are stained purple and taste sweet

Stained like my inner thighs where another life was washed from my womb

by Ve Wardh

Sitting still during a long auditorium class is pure torture for some. It can feel like the flesh is being ripped from your bones.

by Karen Boissonneault-Gauthier, a visual artist, writer and photographer. Most recently she's been a cover artist for Arachne Press, Pretty Owl Poetry, Wild Musette, Existere Journal, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, Gigantic Sequins, Ottawa Arts Journal and more. When she's not walking her two huskies, she's also designing with Art of Where and writing poetry. Karen now uses some of her artwork on non-medical face masks, hoping to be a better global citizen.

See www.kcbgphoto.com to find out more.

by Rebecca Leivesley

A bastard child survives on the whispers of their parasitic twin

by Elana Gomel

In a time and place where only the rich can afford to be cured, a healer named Barrow is betrayed when she least expects it, breaking an ancient promise, and forcing her daughter Paula to mend the damage.

by Adele Evershed

A reckoning in a time of medical discovery, reckless experimentation, and exploitation of women trapped in asylums under the guise of hysteria. What happens in the darkened halls of the asylum, filled with the moans of the abandoned, and steeped in the stench of fear. Only the mad know for sure.