Short Fiction and Poetry

I stood beside my father when he killed a rabbit at the back of our farm. It was the same day that Regan, my baby brother, was born. [...]

Seaweed tonic balms the skin; the precious ingredients are locked in. Pores close as soon as the body is taken out of a warm bath [...]

Leaves and twigs crackled under his boots as he slowly walked along the forest trail, a wind storm the night before [...]

DarkWinter Press is excited to announce our latest release, An Individual by Chris Klassen, available now!

“I think I fancy a Chinese tonight. You?” I swear mealtimes never used to be this uncomfortable. “Uh...I’ll just go with English, today[...]

Talking to the dead is something that one never really gets used to. It isn’t so much the fact that someone who has long since been dead[..]

It started at twelve. Got worse at thirteen. He was dying to hold her hand. That’s what makes us all first burn: desire [...]

Curled on his side, hidden beneath the homemade tent he’d constructed on his mother’s back patio, Arlo studied his arsenal. [...]

Lina woke in the deep of night when the stars called. The attic window was far enough away from her bed to look like a painting [...]

Shortlist Saturdays presents Autumn Sonata by Zary Fekete! [...]

The winter gale blew against the cottage, whistling through the cracks and causing the flames of the fire to dance like the devil. [...]

I buried my face in the crook of her neck, breathing in honey and blooming yeast; a waft of piss, rising from the squirrel in her hands[...]

The river was murmuring, tinkling like suspended crystal droplets glinting in the silvery light, slowly meandering, pushing onwards [...]

Lydia surveyed the mass of brambles in the backyard. She’d need more than a weed-whacker to make a dent. Only three months [...]

I was walking around the block when I stopped by to chat with our neighbor, Cheshire Landfall, in front of her house. [...]

It was dark and horrible that night and the mist danced around as my car dragged its way through the country lanes [...]

God-fearing men avoided the place. They spoke of the devil, and of demons, strange events, and of wicked evil doings, stories passed [...]

Not only have I been saddled with a rookie, but he’s an annoying sunworshipper from Malibu who can’t stop complaining [...]

He didn't believe in ghosts. Not really. They were something from the past, something old people created to make sense of events [...]

I met my friend Hunter in downtown Toronto after his long journey through the Middle East. It was a hot day, and he looked aged [...]