FICTION: My Open-Faced Indulgence by Abbie Doll

The last time I saw Francine, the two of us were secluded in the back of some hole-in-the-wall shop sitting across from one another in a dilapidated booth. While she sat slouched, submerged deep into the worn cushions, sobbing over the messiest of meatball subs, I kept my back straight—determined to maintain my composure with perfect posture and maximize the distance between us, protecting myself from her unsightly marinara splash zone. A disaster was unfolding before my eyes, and it was tough to ignore. Tough to endure. Francine’s lips were chapped, lubricated by a chili-colored coating of grease, not to…

Fiction: An Ordinary Face by Arthur Staaz

No one else seemed to notice. Their eyes were downcast so that they only saw the feet and legs of passersby. From that perspective, he looked like an average person walking down the street. Hugh, however, looked up and noticed the head. The eyes had a hollow gaze. They were large and set too far apart, with long, thick lashes curling above them. The nose was crude and flat. He wore an exaggerated smile nearly as wide as his face and full of undeviating rectangular teeth. It was like his features were drawn on with thick strokes. His head seemed…

The Sweetest Things

by Dinamarie Isola   She left a box of half-eaten chocolates sitting on his dresser. Waxy and whitened along the edges, they looked inedible, if not fake. He didn’t bother to confirm what he knew to be true: the expiration date had long come and gone. Pitching them into the trash, the mounds of chocolate dinged against the metal rim, scattering over the floor. Even when she wasn’t around, somehow she made work for him. I don’t need you to take care of me. Lorelei liked to say that, but getting to her doctor appointments required crossing a six-lane highway.…

Desquamation by Megan Jauregui Eccles

  The lizard suns herself. She looks happier than I ever have. She blinks one eye, then the other. She doesn’t look at me. Does she know that, like me, she once belonged to you? The days wind like hours on a clock. I try spending more time outside. Lying flat on the ground and soaking up the rays of the sun like I’m a plant or a very small lizard. My skin reddens and blisters. I go inside and nurse my wounds with aloe and Tylenol. Later, I see the lizard bite off a piece of her own shedding…

Aperture

By Christina Rauh Fishburne Look at her go. See the ghost of sinew in those triceps and biceps as the creamy brown silk slides up to her shoulder in retreat. This gown was always her favorite. The one destined only for significant cocktail parties and evenings of general greatness. Observe her form. The strain of her graceful neck, the fluid rise of her arms like a worshipper of the sun, and the determined fan of her fingers spreading to embrace. The line of her shoulders as she rears back in Olympic elegance bent on a clean kill. Note the placement…