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Plastic Rivers by Shome Dasgupta

When we would put bits of Scotch tape over the notches to record over Target bought cassettes we didn’t listen to anymore—pressing PLAY and REC at the same time on the boombox to listen to the soporific static melodies before the music soaked our skin—volume up,...

Lottery by Scott Garson

We bought two lottery tickets and didn’t scratch them. It was a game. Like: do yours first. No, you, the other said. A game we played by not playing. I’m fine with wasting money on things, I told you, thinking you weren’t. You put up a shrug to cover your laugh and...

Drones by Ulrica Hume

On the day of my mother’s funeral, we encounter a swarm of drones. We look up, not down. The dystopian creatures are hovering. Drones are good, you say. They count sandhill cranes, track storms. They can even deliver pizza.Casket. Inside: a flower-print...

Mushrooms by Kathryn Kulpa

The baker’s wife came running, her big breasts swinging like cabbages in a sack, and we laughed until we heard her shout, They’re killing everybody, then we ran, too young for anything on us to swing, dust puffing up from the road, far-off sun shining weak and pale...

The Archipelago by Lorette C. Luzajic

The dark pull of the deep, the rhythmic plash of paddle. A choir of widows and daughters around the perimeter blend into the conifers in their kerchiefs and midnight skirts. Soon, it will begin.  Every December, their dirge, rising over the black waters, the...