New Fiction to feast on…
Six Storeys of Forgetting by Alex Older
People come and go, especially at workplaces. But what if one day a week, someone ceased to exist? And stranger yet, what if you were the only one to notice?
Tonight’s tale takes us to a place we aren’t sure anyone should go…
It's Thursday and I'm standing in the desolate concrete piazza looking up at six storeys of brutalist forgetting. One storey for each of your days of the week. I'm thinking of the systems, the laptops and the phones that don't store your name. I'm recollecting blank expressions that don't stay blank for long—only because everyone is so busy. Especially today. Always today. For today, they're one woman short…
Beware of what enters the woodlands. Beware of what climbs the trees.
In tonight's poem we reminded of the danger of an unsatiated appetite…
a little hymn for lostlings
it’s the sound of shadowed bark firming your posture
pressed against tree in attempts to reclaim the ritual
we’re jagged until we’re not and we’re dizzy when enticed to be so
bark bodies by m.v. riasanovsky
INTRUSION
DEAD NATION
Fungeyes
The Thinning of the Veil
In Celtic Folklore, it is believed the veil between the living and the dead is thinnest on All Hallows’ Eve.
As a dark literary press dedicated to the morbid and macabre, it’s only right to release our issues on October 31st.
