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Romance

The Spin Cycle of Regrets

By Jamie F. Bell

Denny hated laundromats. The smell of ozone, the damp chill that seeped into your bones, the lonely melancholy of watching your life tumble behind a smudged porthole window. But the Coin-Op on Elm Street was different. It had a reputation, whispered among people like him. It had a machine, Number 7, that could wash more than just grime from your clothes. Tonight, he was here to wash away a family curse.

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Science Fiction

Where the Iron Snakes Sleep

By Jamie F. Bell

The last tram of the night rattles through the deserted streets of the old quarter. Inside, Ramon is the sole passenger, the flickering lights and the rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the track a familiar, lonely comfort. But tonight, the tracks gleam with a light that is not a reflection.

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Coming-of-Age

Smoke Signals at the Quarry

By Eva Suluk

Nighttime at an abandoned limestone quarry. The ground is slick with spring mud and oil. A large bonfire burns near the water's edge, casting long, erratic shadows against the rock walls. The air smells of burning plastic, wet earth, and gasoline.

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Western Style BL

The First Unfurling

By Leaf Richards

The morning light, still thin and cool despite the late spring, spilled over the rolling acreage of the ranch. Dust motes, caught in the weak beams through the barn's open wide doors, danced a slow, indifferent ballet. The air carried the crisp scent of damp earth, hay, and the distant, metallic tang of rainfall from the night before, a promise of new growth struggling against the stubborn remnants of a long, cold winter.

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