“In Sartre Ward” by Michael Paul Hogan
To be man means to reach toward being God. Or, if you prefer, man fundamentally is the desire to be God. Jean-Paul Sartre …
Category: Fiction
“GET A JOB, LOS ANGELES” by Tadeu Bijos
Dude driving, dude driving vast expanses, dude fucking up on the GPS, dude asking for directions, dude getting off on the right off-ramp and hitting the ocean …
“Casualties, or I can’t f*#!ing understand this Ikea Diagram” by Dani Neiley
Hello, everyone! It’s Friday again and we’ve got another extra thing to share. When we were all talking, we realized we’ve all shared some of …
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, …
“Buzz Hunt” by Adam St. Pierre
I don’t know how long we were up on that hillside, just Paul and me. We sat in a shallow trench, bundled up …
“Bathsheba Beckons” by Fred Owens
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 …
“Write” by Elena Lucia Perez
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 …
“4 AM Girl” By Matthew Maichen
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, …
“Tinder” by Tadeu Bijos
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” by Ellen Webre
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 …
“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. …
“Bandile” by Darin Milanesio
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 …
“Catfish” by Amethyst Hope Hethcoat
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; …
“The Last Time I Spoke to Penelope” by Matthew Maichen
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, …