“Summer Apple Shampoo” by Ben Gamblin Cort calls late Tuesday night. We haven’t talked for a couple days. It’s nice to hear his voice, even if “Markers” by Heather Santo Trish frantically shook the can of spray paint. It made a click click click sound, a sound she now subconsciously “Rafters” by Frank William Finney Dad used to hang thingsfrom the rafterswith wire and nails: Bicycles, lawn chairs,shovels and pails,beds and sledsand sunfish sails. Things “Ritual Music” by Evan Rodenhausen It started as a whisper, as good rumors tend to. What Miss Tarkington heard, or thought she heard, she relayed “Broken Promises” by Mishal Imaan Syed The bluebird was young enough that its feathery down had not yet turned cobalt. Soraya set it atop a flower “Cannibal” by R.C. Stacey Jack, aged and crumpled, sits in the back of a limousine, tuxedo only half smartening him up, looks around, perplexed, “Even Death Won’t Do Us Part” by Emery Behanna Even death won't do us part Or a triptych of short verse I If no one wants to marry meI won’t “There is a Presence Always” by Gabriella McClellan The carnival lights veiled the stars. His mouth was drawn up in a mischievous shape as he took my limp “Wake” by Michelle Brooks I feel the weight of my lifecollapse upon me, the crushingbeauty of ordinary days, allthose moments lost to time.I run Review: “A Route Obscure and Lonely” by LindaAnn LoSchiavo When we were curating the first issue of Black Works, we received a short story submission from LindaAnn LoSchiavo. That Issue 2: July 2019 With this second issue, we are going to slow down with the frequency of our publication. We are adding new Sarah by Stuart Forrest How deep the sleepwhen only billows of grayon undulating, soundless, black tidesare dreamed?Yet, her peace was disturbed,then perturbedby its touch; Preface to A Brief Treatise on the Treatment of Zombie Bites by Richard Weems If this document came to you by way of military courier or heli-drone, congratulations! The US Department of Undead Control Le Monde by J H Martin I wake upBut I am dreaming stillOf blood stained walls and claws of bone Is that what the darkness of This Feathered by Amanda Dettmann A man at my dad’s work slatheredglue over his entire hairy body. This is true. My dad’s a psychiatrist. The Footprints in the Sand by George Burns The death of a child is a terrible thing. Something that haunts a soul and tears a mans heart in Woman with an Elephant by Winniebell Zong nose drowned in a corn field;only tip of her trunk graced the mist above & twitcheda fascinate. She picked up notes The Town Without Mondays by Ruth Gilmour Not far from Ballarat, along the highway between Caralulup and Lamplough, on a road riddled with cracks and bumps, down “the violence of forgetfulness” and “a question of my conception” by Christa Lubatkin the violence of forgetfulness nature’s fury ripped pages from my story empty-handed I stand bereftnot knowing who I am storm clouds « Previous 1 2 3 4 5 Next »
