Paul Smith writes poetry & fiction and is a regular contributor to the Thieving Magpie.  He lives in […]

I can feel it coming\the last one\the lungs tip it off\coughing\pushing that last bit of\atmosphere up up and away

Diane Webster’s work has appeared in Old Red Kimono, North Dakota Quarterly, New English Review, Studio One and other literary […]

She washed the bar of soap\with my saliva as I spit\black and green in the sink\and thought,\“This tastes like shit!”

Michael New studied with James T. Farrell. He worked as the managing editor of the Country Gentleman magazine. […]

She stood out of her chair under the fruitless mulberry tree and strolled over to the century plant. She paused, surveyed the lot, and then bent and snatched up a rock she threw in my direction with all her might.
To avoid being pelted by the stone, I hit the dirt.

B. P. Gallagher holds a Ph.D. in Social/Personality Psychology from the University at Albany and is Assistant Professor […]

The bus squeals to a halt before his stop and the folding doors open with a hiss like an exhalation of breath. He makes his way to the front of the bus, careful not to brush against any of the legs that protrude into the aisle. He nods to the bus driver and the driver gives the slightest declination of his head and looks away as he gets off.   

Andrew McKenna has been a journalist for more than 30 years, with work published in Australia, the UK, […]

The skies are black with smoke from thousands of smashed buildings. Roads are like the surface of the moon. I am forced to park my car five kilometres away from home and walk. Streets are barely recognisable. In places I must scramble over smashed piles of rubble. Cats prowl through the ruins. It has become a city of predators. At one place I gash my hand and I curse. I hear bombers overhead and I shout at them, hurl a brick at them that lands in a burning building and nearly dislocate my elbow for my trouble.