From Modern Mythcraft to Magical Surrealism

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The End of a Painted World

Flaming orange tongues devour the walls around us. The soldiers outside batter at the old wooden doors of the back entrance. Gingko holds fast, the ornate mural of gingko tree branches and golden leaves glowing like painted sunshine.

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Editorial: December 2022

In this issue’s short fiction, Victor Forna takes us on a search for home in “Parebul of the Mother, Asked in Moonlight,” and something allures from beyond in Jennifer R. Donohue’s “Into the Dark”; in flash fiction, Jennifer Hudak gives a taste of preserved magic in “Sturgeon Moon Jam,” and Sam Kyung Yoo draws a daring, imaginative escape in “The End of a Painted World”; for poetry, we have “Luminous” by Timmi Sanni and “What Chimerae Read” by Mary Soon Lee. Plus essay “All the King’s Women: Annie Wilkes is the Mother Goddess of Cocaine” by Big Girl (PM Press) and Number One Fan (Mira) author Meg Elison. Enjoy!

More Fiction

Parebul of the Mother, Asked in Moonlight

Walking, crossing, moon-kissed streets, black top, blue jeans, unwashed. Her afro is home to a million brown-winged birds, everlastingly chirping. There’s a baby boy, eight months old, asleep in her arms, and maybe he dreams of beautiful spinning star-like things because he doesn’t know of the hurt in the heart that loves him.

(available on 12/13) Buy Issue

Into the Dark

Angie is three months dead before I get her letter. She sent it the week before she died, and I guess that figures; the postal service got fucked in the twenties and never recovered. Maybe she even relied on that delay.

(available on 12/20) Buy Issue

Sturgeon Moon Jam

Once a year, during the Sturgeon Moon, a house appears off Seven Mile Line Road in the heart of Chickasee County. Native grasses surround it, thick and tall, protecting the house and its sprawling kitchen garden from view. The being who lives inside the house calls herself Helga Tillinger when she manifests here.

(available on 12/20) Buy Issue

More Poetry

What Chimerae Read

The fables, fantasies, facts, figures / of their disparate discordant parts

(available on 12/13) Buy Issue

Luminous

/ than anything else—cold hands, wild shrieks, / dark fog raging in the air.

(available on 12/20) Buy Issue

More Nonfiction

All the King’s Women: Annie Wilkes is the Mother Goddess of Cocaine

Annie Wilkes is standing at the foot of the bed, sledgehammer in her hand. From certain angles, the hammer looks like an axe. From certain angles, she reminds you of your mother. When she speaks, you hear the voice of your dealer. When she looks down at you, she’s every undeniable mouth-breather who’s ever trapped you in a conversation you could not escape.

(available on 12/27) Buy Issue