Green Cotton Candy

by Bogdan Dragos from 07:30 in the morning and until09:00 he stands bythe clothes storeand stares at his image in the gray window He’s wearing a green suitthat now looks kinda brown and feelsin the same timeheavy with accumulated dirtand light with missing patches The people pass by him and look eitherat their phones orContinue reading “Green Cotton Candy”

Rewinding a Commute

by Lauren Kapsky Red. Wet and sticky. A pool of blood slowly unslicks from the sidewalk. Spatter on the pavement lifts itself into a pink mist, hovering over the city street like some unholy fog. The blood recedes toward the severed neck of a corpse, a genie backing into its bottle. Somewhere beneath the trafficContinue reading “Rewinding a Commute”