As Armand’s Amazing Traveling Ménagerie arrived on the outskirts of Beauvais, a young girl, perhaps ten years old, ran up to the trudging, overburdened man. She had a dirty but earnest face and wore ragged shoes and boys’ clothing. An alert-looking squirrel perched on her shoulder. “You’re here, monsieur!” she shouted. “We’ve been waiting for … Continue reading Ménagerie in Motion by Amy Sisson
After two months one would think anyone could tire of a sight, no matter how amazing, but this never grows old and my heart is missing it—missing her—already. Maxine is with us as always, and to see her bounding effortlessly across the red soil in Mars’ low gravity has been both the amazement and delight … Continue reading R*E*X by Mike Adamson
He sits in darkness on his steps made of log rounds and flickers his flashlight. His light illuminates the orbs at the edge of the forest, like wicks waiting for a flame. Some burn blue, some white, some green. He remembers why they glow as he remembers the touch of paper and leather, of binding … Continue reading Dusk by Becca Borawski Jenkins
Suzanna wears her central nervous system like an exoskeleton now, shrieking the glass shards of bloody murder whenever I even think about touching her. I bring us back suspect materials wrapped in butcher’s paper that I chop so finely they have almost become mist by the time I pour them between her translucent teeth. Her … Continue reading The Vigil by Matt Neil Hill
My sister is here again, standing at my graveside in those killer heels. They must be six inches at least. Why does she keep on coming back? Today she’s wearing a tasteful little designer dress, black silk probably, cut to flatter her non-existent curves. The pearl necklace is a nice touch, very Jackie O. (verging … Continue reading Sisters by Anne Lawrence Bradshaw
There is a building in town whose roof is dotted with plastic dog statues. It`s a dump, really. Squat, ugly, painted rust red and old-coffee-stain yellow in a way that suggests one of the colors was slapped on cause they ran out of the first. Outside it says it’s a post office museum and a … Continue reading Tale Telling by Couri Johnson
1. When I was born, my daddy didn’t come home from war, but the army sent a drone, hand sized and with tiny little pincher arms, in a broken-sealed box. Inside, the lid had “Daddy’s gonna watch over you” written on it in Sharpie and the drone was wrapped in a kaffiyeh. In the email … Continue reading Daddy’s Girl by Jennifer R. Donohue
His name was Benedicto García, and he knew that the sea would be his grave. He’d known it ever since he’d first walked up the steep gangplank of the María Purísima all those years ago, and he knew it still. Whether it would be a fall from the rigging or a ball from an English … Continue reading Seas High and Low by Gustavo Bondoni
I am suppressed, ill-formed, unwhole, a cruel afterthought of Nature. I am a trick played on us by Her. With three limbs to your four, I am more than appendage, but less than man. My grotesqueness emerges from your loins, miniature replicas of your head, arms, and sinister leg, yet the part that makes me … Continue reading I am Lazarus by Christina Dalcher
You Will Fall in Love With Another Funambulist His name will be Emil and he will walk the highwire as if he is one with it, swaying to a rhythm no spectator can feel, oblivious to the gasps and intakes of breath fluttering through the house. You will meet when you are a First of … Continue reading Balancing Act: Or, Things They Don’t Teach You in Circus School by Christina Dalcher