Excerpt from “He’s Gone”
We at The Metaworker are excited to bring you something a little different this Friday. We’ve been given the opportunity to work with Impress Books, …
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
We at The Metaworker are excited to bring you something a little different this Friday. We’ve been given the opportunity to work with Impress Books, …
I don’t know how long we were up on that hillside, just Paul and me. We sat in a shallow trench, bundled up …
Tom Blethen faced two fifty foot rows of potatoes. He looked up at the December sky. It had rained, the field was all muddy, and it …
Sit up straight, feet flat, pen poised – ready? Now don’t think, just write what comes to mind. Don’t pick up your pen, just keep …
She wanders through the streets past midnight. They assume it’s too dangerous for her. It isn’t because anyone who would harm her is asleep. She, …
Last week in the park, a small, violent dog kept sniffing the ass of a much larger, more docile dog. The sniff was aggressive and strangely …
One girl bakes a hundred cupcakes and gives them away for free. One girl wastes perfectly good eggs on a car. One girl’s dog gets …
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, …