Listing Fear: How to Tell You That I Want

If the bear sits next to the wombat, and a stinkbug bats his lashless eyes at some roundness near a deer, how do I tell you about longing? The robin is silent, the rooster’s belly is a curve under fog, and I am too timid to explain what I want. If the same bear drops his fat genitals onto the pond, water too still, no one wants to look. Your patience is a woman with her voice down low, as if lined in wet fur. And this? This is me practicing, wide-eyed, my mouth a dusty O, palms spilling candy.

From Guest Contributor, Kelli Allen

Kelli Allen’s work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies in the US and internationally. She served as Managing Editor of Natural Bridge and holds an MFA from the University of Missouri. She is currently a Professor of English and Creative Writing at Lindenwood University. Allen gives readings and teaches workshops throughout the US. Her full-length poetry collection, Otherwise, Soft White Ash, from John Gosslee Books (2012) was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize.

The Final Indignity

At the start of every year, the Kingdom of Urbania elected a new monarch.

Of course, the old royals had to be disposed of in some way. They were driven away from the capital in an old cart owned by Farmer Putnam. They had already been stripped of most of their pomp and circumstance, though the former sovereigns were allowed to keep their scepters.

Farmer Putnam deposited his charges on the outskirts of the city where they would live out their remaining days. It was at this point he informed them that his transport fee was exactly one royal scepter.

Wrong Turn

Gareth and Melissa knew they were lost when they reached the gas station. It seemed abandoned, with the rusted pump and the crooked sign and the station house that had collapsed years previously.

They argued bitterly, with each blaming the other. Melissa had missed the turnoff, Gareth had refused to look at the map. But their anger towards each other was really just a mask for their own fears.

The station pump was well over 3 meters tall. They couldn't be sure when it had happened, but sometime during the night they had crossed over into the land of giants.

The Manufactured Clarity Of A Warm Bath

Rachel held herself tightly and rehashed all the bitter memories. The water soaked into her skin and she wished the gentle lapping would wash away her regrets and better-left-unsaids. Yet her mood only darkened as the wrinkles formed.

She blamed herself for everything. For the aborted pregnancy, for the bruises on her cheek and back, for the bitterness that forever clung to her. The alternative was too overwhelming, that the world is full of assholes, or that happiness is difficult to acquire and nearly impossible to hold on to.

She'd rather claim the responsibility. At least then there is hope.

Moon Swallows Head of Barking Dog

A young girl and her father sit on a bench and stare into the lake. They are stuck this way forever. From here on out, they must focus unblinking on the way it does not ripple, how no stone may enter and how no fish can leave. Across the park, a squirrel clings to a tree, his heart always exploding, a white dog snapping at his tail. The water reflects the moon and calls down the night, pocked with clouds-- the sky split in two, half of it black, half of it blue; there is no color where they merge.

From Guest Contributor, Jeremy S. Griffin

The Monster That Never Sleeps

They called it the monster that never sleeps. Hundreds had been killed before scientists determined it needed light to survive. The problem being, in a city as modern as Tokyo, there was always light.

Tokyo's leading scientists, led by Dr. Hashimoto, came up with a plan to kill the light monster. They would cut off all power in the entire city at the same time, while making sure every citizen turned off every light source in their home.

The plan would have worked. Unfortunately, Toshi Takahashi decided to keep playing his PSP during the blackout.

All of Tokyo was destroyed.

The Best Of Everything

The translators were the most advanced units available. Miranda had insisted on that. Unfortunately, they hadn't been fully tested yet and were still buggy.

As Miranda waited for what Jergen had said to be translated, she glanced about nervously. It was embarrassing to have all eyes focused on the two of them while they waited for the machine. Perhaps her father had been right, and the old translator would have been the better choice.

But it was her wedding day and she deserved to have the best of everything.

Now the priest was speaking more gibberish. Miranda wanted to cry.

Smashed Glass

You remember: a blurry red light darting across the sky; the glossy road and its skewed mirror of your forehead; flashes of light into the eyes of a man in a hat, crossing the street. He remembers: two tons of steel collapsing from a rooftop, crushing his best friend flat. All that was left were two blue fingers and the smell of dust. The building remembers: the bones and bricks who made it strong, the lightning and rain licking its sides; burst out windows, a fire devouring from within like a disease. The fire remembers being the thing that burned.

From Guest Contributor, Jeremy S. Griffin

Jeb And Gerold

Jeb thought he was safe for the time being; then he heard something:

“Who's there?”

“Someone trying to stay alive.”

Jeb peered and saw someone. He crept forward, cradling his rifle.

The young man sat on some hay, his legs spread out, arms back.

“Go ahead, shoot.”

Jeb came up, and sat across from the Yankee.

“Not yet. How did you get caught in this mess?”

“I could ask the same about you.”

They looked at each other, forming similar thoughts.

“We could die tonight, you know,” said Jeb.

“Life's too precious for that.” They leaned forward, and then kissed.

From Guest Contributor, Dycen Alexander

Unwanted Eye Contact

He hadn't meant to glance up. It was just the sudden noise had involuntarily caused a slight eye motion. It was not a mistake he made often. He was just unlucky that today he found himself staring into her eyes.

He looked down immediately. Eye contact was a major breach of etiquette and he prayed she hadn't noticed. It could hardly have lasted longer than a few milliseconds. Perhaps if he pretended nothing...

The blow to the side of his head came suddenly. "I did not pay good money to the slave dealer only to be eye-raped by a human."