Which language will you make your moon and which your earth?

By Susan Moon
Essays    Reportage    Marginalia    Interviews    Poetry    Fiction    Videos    Everything   
Fiction

I imagined we might pitch over the edge of the mountain.

Fiction

Red roof, red walls, red steps. Red everything.

Fiction

I was alone now, except the mold still had a strong presence I couldn’t ignore.  

Fiction

I wondered if Pia was right, then, if I was seeking something too dangerous to be handled, a bomb that would kill me someday.

Fiction

Where she had rubbed away the grime, her eyes shined intensely.

Fiction

A comic with three different endings

Fiction

Kulu cranks her jaws wide open upon seeing us

Fiction

Maybe you should’ve said something sooner, Robert.

Essays

A notebook on alchemy, memory, and sensation

Fiction

I had vowed to be different, but I wasn’t able to escape servitude, even eight thousand miles away in New York.

Fiction

I felt no joy out there, not close to the joy I felt in Daiso.

Fiction

Boys shouldn’t have tails, we told him.

Fiction

Kay hirap maging mahirap, kung hindi ka pa manginig sa galit ay hindi ka pa iintindihin.
| It’s so hard to be poor. If you don’t tremble with rage, they won’t try to understand you.

Fiction

I pride myself on not having regrets.

Fiction

Astrological insights from twelve of our most recent flash stories

Fiction

Someone up there in charge of making the sky beautiful.

Fiction

Their beautiful skin is the color of perfection, the shade of impeccably cooked lechón.

Fiction

Stars, trees, lasers, lights, everything locking into nothing, everything together yet apart.

Fiction

Because the summer feels more hellfire than hellfire.

Fiction

What if the world was stuck, frozen, and we could go anywhere we wanted, together?

Fiction

I imagined we might pitch over the edge of the mountain.

Fiction

I felt no joy out there, not close to the joy I felt in Daiso.

Fiction

Red roof, red walls, red steps. Red everything.

Fiction

Boys shouldn’t have tails, we told him.

Fiction

I was alone now, except the mold still had a strong presence I couldn’t ignore.  

Fiction

Kay hirap maging mahirap, kung hindi ka pa manginig sa galit ay hindi ka pa iintindihin.
| It’s so hard to be poor. If you don’t tremble with rage, they won’t try to understand you.

Fiction

I wondered if Pia was right, then, if I was seeking something too dangerous to be handled, a bomb that would kill me someday.

Fiction

I pride myself on not having regrets.

Fiction

Where she had rubbed away the grime, her eyes shined intensely.

Fiction

Astrological insights from twelve of our most recent flash stories

Fiction

A comic with three different endings

Fiction

Someone up there in charge of making the sky beautiful.

Fiction

Kulu cranks her jaws wide open upon seeing us

Fiction

Their beautiful skin is the color of perfection, the shade of impeccably cooked lechón.

Fiction

Maybe you should’ve said something sooner, Robert.

Fiction

Stars, trees, lasers, lights, everything locking into nothing, everything together yet apart.

Essays

A notebook on alchemy, memory, and sensation

Fiction

Because the summer feels more hellfire than hellfire.

Fiction

I had vowed to be different, but I wasn’t able to escape servitude, even eight thousand miles away in New York.

Fiction

What if the world was stuck, frozen, and we could go anywhere we wanted, together?