Writing is an act of resistance
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And They Lived Happily Ever After
By Myna Chang Myna Chang writes flash fiction and short stories. Recent work has been featured in Flash Flood Journal, Atlas & Alice, Reflex Fiction, Writers Resist, and Daily Science Fiction. Anthologies featuring her stories include the Grace & Gravity collection Furious Gravity IX; and the forthcoming This is What America Looks Like anthology
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Refugees Displaced in Foil
By Uzomah Ugwu The guards did not even give us numbers or sound the vowels in our broken names that were whole before we arrived at this destination that keeps us moving in grief. She asked what I wanted to eat like we weren’t going to die here at any minute, any hour, borrowed moments we
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Trump Tower
By Lao Rubert She thought life in the castle would be great, high up in the palace where Anne Boleyn had lived, but had forgotten to read her history, was busy with reality TV and those tasks were the business of her personal Cromwell, the minister who neglected to inform her of the bruised
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An Accounting
By Dianne Wright “What is poetry which does not save nations or people” – Czeslaw Milosz of the knowns: 25 years, the age of Ahmaud Arbery, gunned down by 2 white men. 1 white man filmed the assault. 2 prosecutors recused themselves. 1 recused prosecutor recommended no charges. 0 charges brought against the shooters
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He Comes at Night
By J.M. Lasley Editor’s warning: assault, self-harm, mental illness He comes at night, when no one is watching. The soles of his white shoes squeak on the shiny white floors, reflecting white lights above, humming and buzzing through night and day. The keys jingle-jangle and the door swings open, screaming. He smells of sweat
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Here in the Future
inequality, American exceptionalism, racial equality, racism, Poetry, Keith Welch, police brutality, flying carsBy Keith Welch The Future Ain’t What it Used to Be. –Yogi Berra We were promised flying cars, and condos on the moon, even racial equality: all those great sci-fi gags. Those were the glory days, the Future. Everything polished smooth and covered in chrome. In the fifties, we had the scent of unlimited
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With great haste, but still too late
By Laura Mazza-Dixon Evidence accumulates as one by one, those who suffered while the truth was silenced begin to find the courage to speak. Congress tells us that all will be done with care, new revelations investigated, whistleblowers protected. On another channel, others deny all wrongdoing, again and again, mounting their defense in louder
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Honduran Refugees in My Classroom 2
Honduran refugees, Honduras, murder, violence against women, Poetry, sexual assault, Alexander P. GarzaBy Alexander P. Garza Editor’s warning: assault, violence against women “Mira a mi tia.” Look at my aunt. “La mataron.” They killed her. She shows me a photo on her phone: a black honduran woman, motionless, face down, half-naked, ass exposed, top torn. The girl tells me her aunt’s just been raped and murdered,
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The Right Hat
By Luke Walters The little girl’s teal hat is what caught my eye. She and a woman were hugging the bottom of a gravel drainage ditch, hidden from sight—except to me, perched high in my rig. I’d just passed dozens more like them sitting cross-legged along the highway next to green-striped border patrol trucks.