Contributor: Dirky Henkel - - Standing by the window, Odessa scratches that itch which never stops. This one is new, two days old. Her vagina's growing more swollen, turning light blue like her eyes, her pubic hair falling out in lumps. Every now and then she can see her vaginal walls move. And she knows it's a virus inside of her, another unwanted Hypherian baby, sucking its way into her womb as though there aren't enough of them leeching the planet. That's what shit like her is used for these days, breeding. She killed the first little fucker, because she found out. Giving birth to their young is suicide. They say you dissolve like acid. Rumours travel fast, even here in Block A329, a hundred floors up. There's comfort in complacency, especially when you're being fed pills. The haze from the outside creeps through the grille and makes...

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Author: Dirky Henkel

Contributor: Catfish McDaris - - I slash his throat and hands with my machete, as the scream escapes, I cut it into thin slices and deal them like a deck of tarot cards, then I wake up. Some nights it’s playing chess with Elvis and I wake before I checkmate the king. Or I’m a phrenologist and feeling the lumps on Hitler’s head before shoving a grenade in his mouth. Sometimes the night gathers me up in its arms and I listen to the mermaids whisper and laugh. Or the continuous sex of knocking boots with beautiful twin sisters, they decide to treat me down and doggie. They make me a nasty sandwich, by wiping their ass on bread, spitting on the cheese, blowing boogers in the mustard, jerking out some pubes for the lettuce and slicing dog doo for the main ingredient and covering it with salsa. It’s not as bad as it sounds. They let me shave...

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Author: Catfish McDaris

Contributor: Craig Podmore - - After walking the isolated, rural country road I finally come across an idyllic cottage. I spray my perfume, all over my neck, my wrists and my exposed cleavage. I knock on the door. A male dwarf answers; he thoroughly scans my legs, all the way up, past my thighs to my breasts and then finally my face. Not a word is muttered as I enter the cottage. Inside there’s a fire and two naked women, both wearing amputated pigs’ snouts that crudely deform their pretty faces. The perfume stings my skin as the salt of my sweat reacts. The heat is immense. I have no recollection of getting here... “Welcome, welcome! My beautiful flower is here.” The director greets me with his absurd sentiment. “Do you have the key?” He asks. An overwhelming confusion envelops me. “A key? I’m sorry…I…” “Don’t worry, princess…” He...

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Author: Craig Podmore

Contributor: Will Lawrence - - She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Was she unstable? Was she a pervert? Could this be a gateway fetish to something more bizarre, like S&M, or licking a man’s anus? Her boyfriend left her three weeks ago this Thursday. It was Tuesday. And now she felt damaged, unworthy of another long-term suitor, because she would inevitably carry this peculiar desire over from one relationship to another, and so on and so on… until, she feared, word would spread, and every eye belonging to every man, woman, child, and animal she passed in her day-to-day life would be not only aware, but firmly fixated on her, for that one and only reason. She would probably die alone. She couldn’t be more certain of that. She continuously told herself she was going to die alone, over and over, each and every day, and...

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Author: Will Lawrence

Contributor: Misti Rainwater-Lites - - She was quite the side dish, much creamier and more filling than potato salad or green bean casserole. No woman in her right mind wants to be meatloaf or turkey. That’s what wives are for. “You’d rather see me dead than with another man. Wouldn’t you, baby?” she murmured, nesting naked in stained twisted sheets and not so fluffy pillows. “Damned straight,” he said, tweaking her defiant left nipple. The newest hot shit reality show blared from the television, which was surrounded by empty wine bottles and gay sex magazines. “Survivor Small Press Poet Island.” If the two surviving poets did not resort to cannibalism they would win a book deal with Simon and Schuster and a lifetime supply of peppermint flavored condoms. There was a catch. The surviving poets would not be allowed to brag about their...

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Author: Misti Rainwater-Lites

Contributor: Dirky Henkel - - The weight of the man was gone, along with that smell of old nicotine. A scurrying sound indicated his exit. She stood, trying hard not to retch, and assembled what was left of her dress. The outline of her body was still embedded in the grass, on that patch where her life had been changed. She climbed out the park corner, left with nothing but a limp. And a secret. *** They were in the front garden taking pictures, just Nina and her boy as it always had been, preparing for his graduation day. Through the lens, she saw a mirror image, and shut her eyes to rid of the poison, those memories that rendered her a pigeon of a human being. She couldn't let them get to her now. So she breathed in. One last snap was enough. They joined the road. “You've grown up so fast,” she said and he agreed, and her hands...

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Author: Dirky Henkel