BRET EASTON ELLIS’ QUEEN The mirror loomed before her, decorated with gold leaf framing, inlaid with jade and ivory. It cost a small fortune and necessitated bribes to customs officials…
Afterwards, the ghost of cognition Flickered out of thought. Slats of greening light Steeped the silence. We had been told not to breathe The spore-filled air, But it tasted like…
I don’t feel well. That’s not strictly true, but it is what I say. Nobody asks me – in what way are you unwell? They just think, old lady’s ills,…
“You are a fine fellow to go gadding about in this way,” said she to little Kay, “I should like to know whether you deserve that any one should go…
I think it began in kindergarten. Mason Hinks threw rocks at a baby turtle that had fumbled onto the playground. I saw him chasing it and hurling the rocks, just…
Big brother, magic isn’t gone yet. This nihilistic ice castle will not keep me out. Snowflakes are still perfectly made, no matter how you explain their fractals. As you shove…
The bat in the garage was hanging from Jason’s bike rack, its body longer and thicker than Margaret’s dusty motorcycle, which, under its tarp, had fooled her some nights into…
Yesterday, anthropologists came, took pictures of my foot. Their translators asked questions. They’re now writing articles on the brutality women practice on their own bodies. I didn’t even…
I’m not the nicest—never said I was; nor the fairest. Never aspired to be. Place myself in society’s bullseye— worshipped, desired, coveted? I don’t think so. I think you missed…
One night, the first witch scrambled up the layout of B—. Northside, like a gigantic amoeba, ingested Southside’s parts. Glenbriar, de-gated, moved downtown. Winding Way veered into the lake. For…
Gingerbread House Lit Mag 