By Riham Adly
Ghosts from the future haunt me. I see the genesis of my new fat cells, all glorious and unhindered, going on strong in my belly and thighs. I get those flashes of premonition every time my feet carry me there—where I shouldn’t be.
By Niles M Reddick
Grandma sent me a Trumpy Bear and I don’t care. I don’t even like him, don’t like his comb over, don’t like his fake everything. I already threw him in the trash. He’s over there in the corner, stuffed in the can, face down and big ass up, ready for the crusher at the dump. Continue reading