“Boo”din: It Came from the Swamp, Oct ’22 Poetry Editor: Rachel Pittman Fiction Editor: Abbie Skinner Victoria de Benedicty, “Swamp Girl” (2022), oil paint and oil pastel Fiction “Dear Anonymous Cryptid Photographer” by William Hawkins “nothing to fear” by M. Caroline McMaulay “Summer Love” by Cassondra Windwalker Poetry “Feu-Follet” by…
Read MoreSummer Love Cassondra Windwalker __________ He was a simple man, with simple hungers. In winter, he ate smoked and salted fish and popcorn. Come spring, he gathered fireweed shoots and dandelion flowers for fresh salads. And in late summer – oh, that was the best of seasons. All the sweetest…
Read MoreDear Anonymous Cryptid Photographer William Hawkins __________ Item. A letter to the editor published in the Tampa Tribune in which an anonymous woman details an encounter with an unidentified creature which appeared in her backyard, crouched and made ‘woomp’ noises as it stole apples from her back porch. The letter…
Read Morenothing to fear M. Caroline McCaulay __________ Since Arthur learned the formula to sleeping through the night was a dose of benzo and a G&T that was heavy on the T, it was the noise that became his most supreme irritant. The relentless hic hic hic. Oh,…
Read MoreAbbie Skinner Abbie Skinner is an MFA/MA candidate at McNeese State University. Originally from Southern California, Abbie has spent more than half her life living in New York and abroad. She is happy to have settled in Louisiana for now, at least until her next adventure takes her someplace else.…
Read MoreBoudin 2022 Editors: Michael Horner and Mayank Machanda Johanna Barbier, “A Strand,” digital SFX Fiction “Everybody’s Everybody” by Brady Achterberg “#CoronaLife” by Terena Elizabeth Bell “When Mama Was a Moth” by Nick Caccamo “HIGHWAY 111” by Matthieu Cailler “Upon Returning From a Leadership Convention in Hawaii, the Superintendent Addresses the…
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Read MoreHash Marked Jordan Escobar __________ Toothless and hungry, he wakes in the back of his truck. The sky remains broken on grimy windows, as he rubs sensation back into his stubbled jaw. This day and this day again. The pops and aches of his discarded body remembering its own vulnerabilities.…
Read MoreThe Unexpected Dryness of a Lemon Poppy Scone Jacob Ginsberg __________ Eight pages into Arundhati Roy’s God of Small Things, after being stunned to find I’ve somehow plagiarized a book I’ve never opened, I linger over the text on Sophie Mol’s tombstone: A SUNBEAM LENT TO US TOO BRIEFLY; I…
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