Sometimes everything goes wrong in the right sort of way, the busted pieces too magic to tidy up properly. Michael Chaney’s flash fiction “Fur Pockets” [pdf] might fit that description, all sinister gloves and tangerine peels in the pockets of a lab coat.
Once, after the mouse exploded the cat’s eyeballs and fricasseed its tail on a spit in hell, cartoons moralized senselessly. Orco was wrong because he lied says He-Man. Look both ways before you cross says the marine toting an unmounted M-60 machine gun. They wanted us clean.
So different from those hippies in the painted van who never went to school, changed clothes, or said boo about a parent, who chased that gigantic wraith throughout the castle thinking their dog could talk and Velma ordinary. She discovers the wraith inside.…[keep reading]
Ever felt like your body, expressing desires obscure to you, is going to destroy the whole town? Ever want it to? Jennifer Caloyers’ story “Unruly” [pdf] gave us pause, and then we sort of ran, like civilians in a Godzilla movie. Get the proper issue here as an ebook or lovely 100pp. softcover (or both).
¶ In the ticket booth, Caroline reaches above Rusty’s bald spot, into the cabinet, for a red and white striped conductor’s hat. None of the hats fit her wide head properly so she comes armed with her own metal clips to put the hat into lockdown. ¶ Across the tracks, past the scaled-down soccer field, Tom operates the merry-go-round. Today is his first day back from work after his accident. ¶ Rusty put his hands on Caroline’s shoulders two weeks ago. “I have some bad news, kid. It’s Tom. Flipped his car four times. We’ve gotta pray our hardest for him.” ¶ According to Rusty, he still has window glass embedded in his arms. Pieces surface, like crops in a garden, ready to be picked. ¶ The stiff horses are going around in circles and Caroline looks on as Tom pinches and pries at his skin, trying to retrieve hidden shards.
***
¶ At home Caroline takes off her overalls in her bedroom and her pubic hair spills out to her thighs where it hangs like tassels on a loincloth. Her breath quickens, her throat feels like an empty swimming pool. She hesitantly reaches down to touch the hair to make sure it’s real.… ¶ She pulls on a pair of sweatpants and rushes into the kitchen, drawing the shades. Luckily her mom isn’t home. With the scissors from the knife block Caroline cuts the hair off. It rests in her palm like wilted flower stems. She washes it down the sink and runs the disposal. The blades turn, chopping the hair into a fine clump of mush, swimming through the pipes out to sea.… [continue reading]
POETRY by Gary Jackson, Carol Hamilton, Eric Thompson, Aaron Anstett, Amber Edmondson, Doug Bolling, George Eklund, Jennifer A. McGowan, John Palen, Kimberly Prijatel, Sarah Coury, Edward A. Dougherty
FICTION by Jennifer Caloyeras, Autumn Jackson, Eric Prochaska, Xenia Taiga
FLASH by Michael Chaney, Philip Kobylarz, Jennifer Kovelan, Nicholas Miller, Meredith Summers, Mayah El_Dehaibi
NONFICTION by Sjohnna McCray, Josette Kubaszyk, Katie Johansen
ART by Ivan de Monbrison, Emily Hake (sample 1, 2, 5), Sasha Piergeorge, Otha “Vakseen” Davis III
stormcellar.org 