The rookery is disguised as a shed. I keep a lawnmower and a pair of hedge trimmers for the sake of camouflage, stowed beneath nesting shelves. The nests are woven of straw, pet hair, and twigs pulled from local woodlands. Fifteen ravens, oil black. A single fledgling, bleach white. I only let my birds out…
For breakfast, Zip and I will eat a rancid jar of olives, a brittle feather from the windowsill, and a single dehydrated fig. Good pickings, rich pickings, delicacies. We will start light, first the olives, then the feather, and finally the fig which has been confined to this apartment for as long as we have.…
Huge thank you to judge Matthew Salesses for reading and choosing the winners. This was definitely one of our most competitive contests and we expect these shortlisted stories will find excellent homes very soon! 1st Place: “mi corazón quiere cantar así” by jj pena “The way this story uses sound makes it stand out from the…
Everything Will Be Okay in the End
The ghosts have come looking for my maid, but the maid is not here. The maid is out back in the alley with crusts of bread and apricot pits and chicken bones. The maid looked hard at me when I put her outside. Her eyes black and round as new moons. My whole body crackles…
Self-Portrait as Everything You’re Not
Blonde girls at school seek to become blonder. Blonde girls arrive with new highlights, preening at the way their faces are framed by golden honey. Blonde girls say, “I put sun in,” and blonde girls ooh and ahh. Blonde girls coo and comfort when the results are less than ideal: chunky streaks of orange hidden…
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