“Battlegrounds” by Marina Shugrue
The needle pricks my skin and I gasp as I shake out my hand. A little speck of red blood lands on the grey flooring. …
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
The needle pricks my skin and I gasp as I shake out my hand. A little speck of red blood lands on the grey flooring. …
Out by the creek behind our home, the moon and stars reflect off the water, and Bandile would often go out there. The trees were …
My room is black as an Olympic runner—except for the illuminated screen of my Sony Vaio which radiates like Chernobyl. My laptop is cherry red; …
She led me out of my house in the middle of the night. I went with her because she was moving away the next day, …
The first time I tried to ride a two wheel bike, I remember my dad running alongside my six-year-old self as I swerved down the …
Wil Deas lives and writes in the city of Los Angeles with his cat Murder Mittens. A recent graduate of Chapman University, Wil is doing …
Hey guys, happy hump day (or at least it was when I started this). I just wanted to take this opportunity to talk about art. …
They Sleek bold bodybound by expectationsby gendered declarationsforced to function in conversationssplit in twain by ‘his’ + ‘her’, no ‘they’ How to navigate this intimate …
He comes for honey, sweetness of the meaty earth he plants his flag in. Sunlight pollinates the horizon with gold. He moves like a rolling …
Please never call me that. Why did I call myself that? As of now, there is no deadline for when we’re going to start publishing …
No one ever said it would be easy being writers. Instead, we heard things like, “So what do you plan to do with your degree? …