Tribes of warring pastoralists drive their meat-shrubs across a snowy plain. Their world, Hurth, does not turn, but is…
From The Nothing on Which the Fire Depends, by Micheline Aharonian Marcom
There are the intransigent others on the highway the mind makes like stones on a wire, like birds, who…
Past Hertz, by Hillary Leftwich
I wake up every night unable to open my mouth. I’m grinding my teeth in my sleep. My dentist…
From Yet to Come, by Cris Mazza
Virginia had mostly stopped coming to gigs, unless it was some sort of banquet where the band would get…