Imaginings set loose.
By Clay Space The wind on the frozen ice bit through the hides he wore for protection, but he had long ago learned to forget about the bitter cold. His son kept pace behind him, following in his footsteps. The lake was indiscernible from the mountains and ridges that sprawled out before them, but he knew exactly where he was going. Nature spoke to him through the slight changes in the wind and the dips and rivets in the ice.
By K. Eisert Through the one-way mirror, Senator Heidi Montoya studied the man clad in an orange jumpsuit and shackled to a chair. A guard lifted the black bag from his head. The man's affect was flat. Was he drugged? With disheveled hair and scraggly beard, he resembled more the homeless men who hung around the Capitol building than the purported leader of a terrorist organization.
by Ken Hoover On the mesa’s flat expanse, the mine shaft was a crude hole, a soulless eye. As Vallen Doss peered into it, a dank sulfuric breath wafted from the opening. She waved the foul air away with her mechanical hand.
By Jude-Marie Green One rocket lumbers along to the launchpad. Earth-bound and clumsy now, gorgeous with potential. It’s yours. You’re the last. You should be proud of that.
by Betsy James
Your two-penny face,
bright as your father's,
by Shveta Thakrar
So red this rose
Brambles burst from my mouth
(Stammers strangled into sterile silence)
by Sean Monaghan Gemma felt the pain right away. She sighed, stretching, angling her limbs and hips, trying to find a more comfortable position. She blinked, looking at the Arhend side table strewn with folders.
by WC Roberts
Striding tall on spider legs it scans the regolith
the ping of refined metal set off
antenna disk cocked upward
by Nancy Fulda The vase cracks against the hardened floor of our street-house, splitting into a dozen pieces. Shards fly everywhere – under the workbench, across the floor, even beneath the gears of the big mechanical clock that Grandfather brought down the hill this morning. Everyone in the room freezes.
by Joshua Shaw Midway through her love story, in which we are slow dancing atop a creaky fire escape, a boozy swooning to the snow’s pitter-patter as I say I love you I love you for the first time, I interrupt Eleanor to point out that if she loved me she would stop unscrewing my [...]