Nanoism

White rose petals, glasses of wine, a fading sunset—holding your hand through the streets of Paris, I knew I should’ve left you long ago.

Daniel Boyko is a writer. 

When he couldn’t find the remote, he thought, damn, she took that too.

Dorothy Kollat is a writer in Southern California and author of Broken Pieces.

He heard the door while showering. He chased him a block before realizing he felt the ground on his soles more than the love in his heart.

Keely Honeywell (@kahoneywell) writes and draws, like ya do.

They chatted about parties and unfair curfews as they fixed their hair in front of the mirror and the girl in the stall ate her lunch.

Andrea Lynn Koohi (@AndreaKoohi) is a writer from Toronto.

Its ring is shrill, yet Bettie ignores it, hoping that the caller (a daughter-in-law, or a son even) might visit instead.

Laura Besley writes fiction in the precious moments her children are sleeping.

We argue over what to call it, that place where the children die.

R. Gatwood is precise.

Since you died, two thoughts keep hitting me one after the other: “Wish you were here” and then “You didn’t want to be here.”

R. Gatwood is concise.

I forgot your birthday this year. Maybe that’s progress.

R. Gatwood’s fiction has appeared or is forthcoming, depending on your temporal location, in Apex Magazine.

He lived long enough to see his favorite beach vanish and his favorite food go extinct.

R. Gatwood (@iwantanewhead) is the emergent consciousness of a spectacularly inefficient library shelving system.

He lies bleeding in her lap, and he says, Tell me a story, and she laughs through tears and says, I love you, and he says, No, a true story.

R. Gatwood (@iwantanewhead) tells many stories, mostly false ones.