Author: Heavy Feather

Original Haunted Passages Short Story: “The Late Mrs. Cole” by Salvatore Difalco

Mrs. Cole lived down the street from us. People said she was a witch. They’d seen her flying around on a broom. And she had been spotted in Eastwood Park picking poisonous mushrooms by the back fence. She was also said to walk around the neighborhood with a shopping bag full of frogs. But most…
Short Fiction for Haunted Passages: “Splitting a Pig” by Austin Goodmanson

The machines in my daughter’s bedroom kept their rhythm for weeks. Beep. Beep. Nothing changed that I could prove. Then last week I sat beside her bed, rambling about whatever came to mind. Regrets from her childhood. When I said I was sorry, her cheek was wet. One tear. I thought it was a fluke.…
Side A Short Fiction: “Stained Glass” by Lindsey James

Stained Glass There will be shards on the floor, beer-stuck to the tile, when Dominic walks back into the kitchen. All the broken things will still be there, the visible and invisible ones. The glass, at least, he will be able to sweep up. * The first time Natalie had invited him over, he pretended…
Haunted Passages Original Fiction: “Bupropion Hydrochloride, or, Pills for Vanquishing” by K. Degala-Paraíso

– 0-mg – Your sister has been evicted from her apartment—again. You count this to be her eleventh eviction. This time, instead of paying her landlord rent for the last three months, your sister bought: You’re not sure where she got the money for all of it, as your sister has never held down a…
Poetry from the Future: “You Will Click Here Now” by Wes Civilz

Click here now. Click this glowing button now And mute the news and pause the videos And watch the calendar expand anew With layered glitchy dummy text imposed. Now kill all calendar events (deleting Events brings all to front). Expand. Repeat. Recurring weekly thing. Click. Oops. Repeating Event goes daily now so go complete Your…
Side A Poetry: “Haint Walk” by Andreas Savvides

Haint Walk I was murdered by a mob when I was just 14.Now I do the Haint Walk. Nobody told me what I had did, even when I asked!They told me animals don’t get an explanationas the sea of cloaked arms and hoods pushed me towards the tree.It’s still hard to shake that sensation of…
Three Fictions for Flavor Town USA: Elissa Matthews

Roast Duck with Plum Sauce At two in the morning my mother phones, waking me. Insomnia, fear, and the need to talk have overwhelmed her once again. There’s pain between us—some open wounds, some badly healed ones, some jagged scars—but we both know we have only a few months left. “I’m hungry,” she says. “Make…
Bad Survivalist Poetry: “All My Ducks” by Charlie Brice

I sit across from the sweet Black womanat my doctor’s office. She’s checking me outafter a visit where I, once again, dodged the bulletsof mortality, bobbed and weaved to avoid morbidity’s blows. I love looking at the tchotchkes on her desk, especiallythe little plastic ducks along the front of her computer.I always say, Looks like…
Rodrigo Toscano: Two Poems from the Future

Itinerant Tendon Already tight, the tendon got tighterLosing even more strength, already weak.A sudden demand on its core functionCircular rotation at ten degreesGive or take, exceeded its base limit.A micro tear thus began its journeyWidening its path steadily to the bone.Upon arrival, the tendon snapped off(A simile on the way that went downWas not found,…