he says, as soon as this is over. She lists the names of towns she’s always wanted to see, foreign and sticky on her tongue, Lauterbrunnen, Lucerne, Zermatt, as they sit abreast at the infusion center...

ALT: a congratulations sign with hearts and stars

Huge congratulations to the twenty authors who have made our 30th Award short listAuthor names are yet to be announced, so while it is fine to share you are on the short list, please do not identif…

Congratulations to all the authors who have made our Award long list and huge thanks to all who entered.Author names are yet to be announced, so while it is fine to share that you are on the long l…

Jacked-up on coke, chrome-plated patriotism dripping from his grill, he roars in circles around Clio. His engine snarls, greedy for more. More of Clio splayed across a mattress. More of Clio’s silence when he revs his supercharged V8 engine, spitting twisted insults out his exhaust. More of Clio cowering in an empty room, knees bruised as he watches from his roll cage. Daniel thundered into Clio’s world with polished boots and a rifle slung low, flashy as an Avenger with its muscle car body. Rebellious, souped-up, always ready to crush. She wonders if she made the monster from her wanting—her skin, her softness, her silence. Did she mistake the vibration in her body for desire, not warning? Did she hand him the keys? Wheels screech on gravel, and the scent of fuel stains the air. Since Clio went to live with Daniel, he has flattened her in the dirt. Her body rusting from the inside out, she hazes her lungs with cigarettes, and plans her escape. Searches for his kill switch. Keeps a map folded under her tongue.   --- Ali Mckenzie-Murdoch (UK), lives in Zürich. Her work appears in X-R-A-Y Literary, Fractured Lit, Your Impossible Voice, and more. Nominee for BSF 2025 & BMF 2025. She’s working on a novella-in-flash about liminal spaces—theater stages, no man’s land, the foreshore—places where boundaries blur.

Jacked-up on coke, chrome-plated patriotism dripping from his grill, he roars in circles around Clio. His engine snarls, greedy for more. More of Clio splayed across a mattress. More of Clio’s silence when he revs his supercharged V8 engine, spitting twisted insults out his exhaust. More of Clio cowering in an empty room, knees bruised as he watches from his roll cage. Daniel thundered into Clio’s world with polished boots and a rifle slung low, flashy as an Avenger with its muscle car body. Rebellious, souped-up, always ready to crush. She wonders if she made the monster from her wanting—her skin, her softness, her silence. Did she mistake the vibration in her body for desire, not warning? Did she hand him the keys? Wheels screech on gravel, and the scent of fuel stains the air. Since Clio went to live with Daniel, he has flattened her in the dirt. Her body rusting from the inside out, she hazes her lungs with cigarettes, and plans her escape. Searches for his kill switch. Keeps a map folded under her tongue.   --- Ali Mckenzie-Murdoch (UK), lives in Zürich. Her work appears in X-R-A-Y Literary, Fractured Lit, Your Impossible Voice, and more. Nominee for BSF 2025 & BMF 2025. She’s working on a novella-in-flash about liminal spaces—theater stages, no man’s land, the foreshore—places where boundaries blur.

.

.