POETRY
Melissa R. Benham	diffuse
Eve Eldred	For Mary Kay LeTourneau
Suzanne Frischkorn	Michael's Voice Slips Fragments
Rick Lupert	Entire Fucking Sausage
Carole MacRury	Spoiled Fruit
T.J. Suvajac	On Clarissa Dalloway
Preston Mark Stone	Rice
Chocolate Waters	The Turquoise Dress
Phillip Woodruff	virgin
PROSE
Alexander C. Danner	Milk and Honey
	"I don’t have anyone in particular in mind. He’s just sort of hypothetical. I don’t think I even know anyone right now that I’d be interested in sleeping with." She gave Joel a nervous smile. "Other than you, dear," she added quickly.
Rosanne Dingli	An angel, naked and possessed
	The first time I saw her was at the Tate Gallery in London. Arms modestly shielding her body, of which I saw only her back. Of course she was blonde. She resisted capture or rescue. Her back was straighter than mine, hips broadening only slightly.
Soma K. Roy	Something Fishy on the Rocks
	"Entrails!" I replied chipperly, and grabbed a fistful of what appeared to be intestines. My coping mechanism for most disgusting experiences often required a jubilant appreciation of the macabre. I tossed the intestines aside. Trevor gleeked and sidled toward the vegetable buckets. "Oh, no," I replied. "You have to help."
PLAYS
Julie Failla Earhart	Death in the Afternoon
	When I saw it---I mean her. I was walking down the sidewalk—at least I think it was the sidewalk. With all that snow it was hard to say---looking for my mitten. Then I saw a big red stain on the snow. Then I saw it---I mean her. Then I ran over to her and then I started yelling for help. Yeah, I remember now. I ran up to her, and when I saw what had happened, I started yelling.
PHOTOGRAPHY
John Running	Absolution
GUEST EDITOR
	MJM

| Current | Previous | Submit | Editors | Join | Links | Donate | Contact | Sundress |