There’s a pencil drawing of exaggerated labia on the portable potty wall. I edit it with my permanent marker, happy the shit truck came early and there is no stalagmite of feces in the hole beneath me. I make an orchid, the beckoning lips perfect, then a bee with a trail of dots swirling out […]
Author: Anna Lea Jancewicz
Anna Lea Jancewicz lives in Norfolk, Virginia, where she homeschools her two children, teaches creative writing, and is Best Dungeon Master Ever for a group of heroic middle-graders. She is an editor for Tiny Donkey, a journal of short-form fairy tale nonfiction. Her writing has been chosen for The Best Small Fictions, Literary Hub Daily, and the Wigleaf Top 50 longlist, and has appeared at Hobart, Necessary Fiction, Pithead Chapel, and many other venues. Her short story collection, (m)otherhood, is forthcoming from Widow and Orphan House press, FALL 2017. Say it: Yahnt-SEV-ich.
3 Hybrid/ Jim Warner & Beth Gilstrap
Revelation 036 Each week it gets harder to talk to God, even my version I’ve linked it to the construction of the human ear—the Eustachian tube in particular—which is normally collapsed, but opens with pressure, with swallowing, when taking off in an airplane. All I know is the movement of that unreachable, uncontrollable air. But I […]
Hypothetical Bar Fights & Other Cool Shit: An Interview w/ Bud Smith
If you are into the indie lit scene and you aren’t familiar with Bud Smith, you must be living under a rock. Your rock might be really awesome and you might be perfectly content beneath it, but I’m about to fuck that up for you. And you’ll thank me for it.
COMICS
Two Comics/
Daniel Christopher Cain
Six Comics/ Josh Poole
Comic/ Allen Forrest
Shit and Gold/ Elliot Patterson
I joined the impromptu clique of smokers outside the coffee shop and slid into a conversation about tiny houses and woodstoves, teepees and yurts, composting toilets. Some dreadlocked white boy just off the Appalachian Trail was rambling happy about his tarps and tents and his buddy’s yurt, and I let him pronounce it App-a-lay-shun because […]
This Tyrant, This Child of Pride/ Sheldon Lee Compton
There was a chance she wouldn’t even open the door. But Roy hadn’t seen Jenny or her boy, Thomas, in five years. She couldn’t not answer the door. He knew his daughter. He went over what he should say while walking the small dirt road until the house loomed out from the hillside, a tilting […]
Food Poisoning/ Beth Gordon
It was the truck stop food that did it I think. Deep fried green tomatoes once crispy now soggy with sweat and bacon drippings. I prefer fresh food but have no stomach for slaughter /skinning/ buckets of blood. Boil a chicken and pluck its feathers that smell will never leave […]
Three Poems/ Monique Kluczykowski
Imposter Syndrome They always lie about the pain— just a little discomfort. A plastic straw snakes up the vagina to the scarred cervix, closed now for renovations. The bunk beds look sad, stripped of their mattresses, their sheet forts. Boxes multiply in the garage, stars in a far-flung galaxy. The […]
RABBLE LIT 