The opening band sounds like Dick Dale on downers. Dual vocalists split the front of the stage. The hipster, stage-left, plays rhythm, mic on distortion.
NEW FICTION: NEXT YEAR’S SHOW
Slush Pile Magazine
NEW FICTION: EXACTLY WHAT YOU MEAN
Her commitment had been total until, during one of four weekly after-class sessions, she lost concentration when her coach’s interest diverted visibly to a younger girl stretching on a nearby mat.
FICTION: MY HEART IS A CHEAP FUCK
He was just getting seriously into weight training and his body was bulging in unexpected places we’d discover together.
NEW LOCAL FICTION: THE WEBSITE
YOUR FIRST MESSAGE is from some kid who only just gained the right to drink in bars this past November, and what he writes to you is I like older women.
DIG + SLUSH PILE FICTION SUBMISSION PORTAL
Submit your fiction to DigBoston + Slush Pile Magazine here.
FICTION: SAINT VALENTINA
YOU WERE BORN the day the IRA kidnapped Shergar. The radio reported it, and the t.v. did, too. The midwife suspected that the Russians had taken him.
SPECIAL HOLIDAY FICTION: TWO SMALL DOGS
ONE DECEMBER SUNDAY, just two weeks before Christmas, Rose and Mark came home to discover Gretl alone in the yard, surrounded by trails of sticky black hair and a tangle of grayish, gnawed up bones. Hans’s rat-like skull, the eyes picked clean, poked out from under a deck chair on the far side of ...
ODD FALL FICTION: THE CAROLINES
“Tough life out here, huh, boy?” She stroked his ears, his thoughts moving up through her hands. He was old, and it hurt to swallow. He had run away from a man who came home drunk some nights and kicked him. It made her throat tighten and her eyes wet. “That’s bad. I’m really sorry.” Some people fed him, but mostly he ate garbage, and he hurt every night when it got cold. He hurt all the time. He wanted peace, and he looked right into her face to say it.
FICTION: HOPE OF REBOOT
BY HAYES MOORE
MY SUPER-HUSBAND just sent me an interesting article. I call Paul my Super-Husband because he is both my supervisor and my husband. And because it is poetic.
The email said:
juliet—article below mentions a kid from your high school class. ...
