Jape by Robert Beveridge

You’ve spent three months
in this cell,

Jimmy’s Going Places by James H Duncan

The basement office is where Jimmy spent the last hour of his day, not because he was busy filling out all his work orders or safety checklists, but because he knew his boss almost always left after lunch and didn’t come back till morning.

Shared Bodily Warmth by Thomas Tyrrell

Few things are bleaker than Dartmoor when the winter nights draw in like wolves around a campfire.

Annalisa! by Scáth Beorh

Tessie ran and ran and ran in big, wide circles. Her flaxen hair blew like laughing wheat, her Brandeis-blue dress covered with snowy polka dots that shifted this way and that in the crisp Atlantic breeze of the early year. Tessie was like a butterfly—you couldn’t catch her, but she was beautiful to look at.

Waiting by Jools Banwell

The beast stalked, drooling, along the unlit street.

The Face of Agamemnon by Bethany W Pope

Wine can live five-hundred years, away from air,
to die upon your baffled tongue.

White Nose by James P. Roberts

We got it from the bats,
Tiny teeth sinking into our veins.

Illusory by Robert Beveridge

I had thought I looked out
over fields, grass that stretched
between horizons.