Features

A Nightmare: PTM’s Horror

Our pulse quickens. Our eyes grow wide. We gasp for breath, shudder, and shrink back into our seats. Horror readers—and writers—are a true contradiction. As our favorite genre hurls us mercilessly into our deepest childhood frights, feeds us to monsters, and speeds us headlong into destruction and death, we’ve never felt more alive. What is it about wandering through words, away from the safety of the light, into the terrors of the darkness, through dizzy Read more

By sarah_burton, ago

The Little Clay Godling

by Meahgan Ferral In the dark of the woods, where sunbeams rarely kissed the ground and strangers never stepped, there was a small community, tucked away in the leaves and branches and dirt. I’ve lived my life there, in a cabin with my parents and sister. The two of us spent our childhood roaming beneath the trees with our parents at our heels, whispering in our ears to never wander too far, to never stray Read more

By sarah_burton, ago

 Macy’s Adventure

by Camryn Lehr I don’t remember the city where I was born. I was taken to this world of green before I could talk. At bedtime, I used to snuggle into my soft lime-printed blanket, and ask Grandfather to tell me of the city. He always sat in my blue desk chair, which made him look unusually large, and read from a worn, stained piece of paper. I’ve always wanted to read it, but the Read more

By dikshya_pattnaik, ago

Mr. & Mrs. Popovich

by Natalia Vodilkova It was Mr. and Mrs. Popovich’s 20th anniversary today, and both of them forgot. Boris Popovich went about his day routinely; Wake up in his damp bed around 5 am. Take a piss. Without washing his hands, put on the same khakis and collared shirt as every workday. Check himself out in the mirror. Not bad for 55. Head for the door—pay no attention to Mrs. Popovich on the way out, who Read more

By dikshya_pattnaik, ago

Hell is Other People

by Marleigh Green Tom knew there would be consequences when he knifed Andre in the ribs, not that he’d had much choice in the matter. Andre had been mad-dogging him across the yard for weeks, and everyone had whispered that he was fixing to do something. Tom never found out what the something was.  The creaky cot squeaked every time he moved, but other than the sounds he made, the cell was silent. It was Read more

By dikshya_pattnaik, ago