Micro Prose: Birth Smell by Geula Geurts

Birth Smell Before I gave birth, every newborn I smelled was lemon fresh, unknowing seeds cracked open by promise. Glorious lemon, I said, holding a friend’s baby in my arms. Nameless sun. Crisp as wind. * During birth, I lay in the odor of my terror, body emptying itself out, unfurled gut, acid vomit, &…

Micro Prose: Art in Asylum by Eben S. Schwartz

Art in Asylum The halls are taupe and evergreen, as if someone gutted a pine tree and stretched it on tenterhooks. Every eighteen feet a poster of a landscape hangs, smothered in Plexiglas and set in a frame screwed tight to the wall.  When we move to town, my wife says our house looks like…

Micro Prose: Reptilian by Tyler Gillespie

Reptilian Reptilians either evolved on Earth & left when they mastered intergalactic space travel or they’re from a planet in the Draco constellation & flew here to imprison all humans.  I learned this on YouTube: fell into a video hole of people dissecting movie stills in which Reptilians give glimpses of their true form like…

Issue: 9.2

Fiction, Nonfiction, Poetry, and Art by…