The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
“Give it up,” hollered a voice two tombstones down. “Nothing’s spooky to anyone in this damn world of endless light. You’re not scaring anyone.” Excerpt from “Grave Lightning” by Max Zell @ZellWriter #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“One day, colorful dots specked the sky as if a rainbow exploded.” #TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
“My little brother had shown early signs, spitting up fire with his baby food. My parents were
covered in small burns for the first few years but I’d never seen them so happy.”
#TheMetaworker #MetaworkerMonday
The woman at the cafe was out of breath as she sat in the window seat looking through the early night at the few groups …
“What are we waiting for?” Chris asked, staring at me from the passenger seat of the car. I shifted in the driver’s seat. “Lorenzo told …
There’s a distinct scent to the air right before a Firestorm breaks: acrid and sulfuric, with a touch of sweet smoke. It manifests moments before …
The wind howled and tore through the treetops, and our horses, Highland and Orion, crowded together to share their heat, but I was warm and …
A fang of lightning crashesa branch into the wind-clawed loch. Thunder drives eels to the bottom. Water flashes downa mountain rising through the skin of …
When I remember to look, I will see her. At least that’s what usually happens. I work on the high hill in the towers of …
I. Snapshot Click. WHIRR. Shadowed still frame capturing fae.Ethereal grace magnified by child’s wonder.Muted only by adults’ misunderstanding “genuine.”Why would fae be less real if …
Episode Description: Editors Matthew, Elena, and Melissa talk to Stella Meadows about her brilliant nonfiction (as well as what makes brilliant nonfiction in general), identity, …
There’s a cloud in the room that the boy knows as ‘vapour’, knows it in the way he knows his emotions, knows it in the …
Maya’s entire town had awoken one morning to find swarms of people milling outside their doors, their skins a mottled mix of colors: sunny yellows, …
She’s even made the bed where another man will rape her. The swine have been slaughtered, the silver’s been laid. Everything’s ready. She scans the …
Mom’s breathing was shallow, her skin rough, hair green. I glanced up and saw my father, Fred, checking his phone as his wife of almost …
When the dragon first wound its way through the fragrant mist that swallowed the mountain, most had no reckoning of its nature. It was a …
I’ve fallen in love with all of them. How could I not? With their skin so soft I can watch it give way beneath my …
I have stood for over a hundred years in this place, endured the idiots who link hands and try to encompass my bulk, observed the …
It wasn’t like that. Our mother suckled us for years in the rank, familiar den. She chewed the deer meat until it was a fine …
Stand at ocean-side, exhale screams cut through dense air, her throat tightens releasing weird screeching caterwauls. The ice melts and Sibyl climbs the tower; in gown of …
Once there was a man who found a forest in his pocket. When he came home after a day’s work he would take it out. …
Once upon a time, there were two big kingdoms and two small kingdoms. The two big kingdoms were called Khakia and Doogland. The two small …
Every year, from the first I was assigned to the graveyard, I would watch the headstones from my place upon the highest pine tree. My …
Writing isn’t only for novelists or poets. Screenwriters are writers, too! Below is an interview with Steven Jay, the writer and creator of an upcoming …
I am getting off the school bus at the top of the driveway in the afternoon on a Friday. In real life, there were only …
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, …
