The words are mostly water and float easily between logs and silt, weaving their way into something understandable. I never agreed
to the terms of the contract, my heart a balloon loosed from fingers reddened to white.[…]… Read More “Severance” by Jake Bailey
It is awake in the chill morning air, dripping cold rainwater off of its snout to the cement below. It sees the stretch of parked cars, the fence ringing The Building which breaks only to force visitors past its stony paws, the sway of trees in the distance — all of this is discernible within… Read More “Yang” by Helen Doremus
I face myself, the thing convincing as a face can be, although it breaks where it should mend in laughter. Do you believe in me though you should believe in nothing, where it hurts a little, that time of life that stuns into you, so you see the future, where you stand guard, eager to… Read More “Death Ruins It” by Caley O’Dwyer
Does time make us crazy or is it something else? I see myself but back away. I want to know what life is, but only gain the subtle topping, cosmic merengue dissolving on the tongue. Something catches in the sieve. There is a carefulness I can’t shake. As though I could check and turn away … Read More “Night Polo” by Caley O’Dwyer
Was postmodern living really so bad with its postmodern lampshades, access to the worldwide internet’s daft shenanigans, the great show of hip hop, happiness, high-risk mortgages, fields of discourse plowed with ultimate unassailable truth? You are a thread in the fabric while the needle behind you weaves or is woven into the greater piece. Time… Read More “Certainly Valsartan” by Caley O’Dwyer
The Gusog Warrior by Nina Gibson “I know who tried to kill me. I just don’t know why.” Book One available for purchase on Amazon
Paroled by Lisa Croce “Eyes darting around the yard, some look more comfortable than others, like they’ve been here before, while others have that stink of fear I recognize on them, a stink I can smell across the yard.” Published July 9, 2020 in Obelus Journal.
Don’t Fight with Crazy by Tracey Simmons “The room felt electric with smiled glances, loud murmuring laughter, and conversations of people catching up. In between the smell of burnt coffee and cigarettes, ammonia whiffed through the room, because the janitor had just finished up as we were coming in.” Published August 3, 2020 in Reclamation Magazine. Feature… Read More Sentience Editor published in Reclamation
sen•ti•ence sĕn′shəns, -shē-əns, -tē-əns► n. The quality or state of being sentient; consciousness. n. Feeling as distinguished from perception or thought. n. Sentient character or state; the faculty of sense; feeling; consciousness.
Sentience Literary Journal 