Short Fiction and Poetry

I see your shadow in the Autumn twilight reek of Jim Beam and the hum of summer bees, collecting a deer’s footprints and a cardinal’s sad ballads [...]

An innocent transposition was usually to blame, a hastily written figure. [...]

If I were Land’s End, you would be John o’ Groats. This is not how it began, we were as inseparable as fish and chips [...]

Each empty storefront tells a secret story ...of investment lost, illusions shattered. Each for sale/rent sign tells a hidden story [...]

Count on that as truth with a capital T. Just as you have lost your mother’s laugh, the timbre of your father crying. [...]

I walk at dawn the forest trail, I cherish time alone to be with nature as it wakes, it’s here I feel at home. [...]

How would I know why night follows day! I can’t even tell you why my tongue craves liquids that burn in the throat. [...]

DarkWinter Press is excited to announce the authors and their books that we've secured as of now for the remainder of 2026 until Fall 2027! [...]

I reach into the bramble, accepting each bite, a sting as strong as sweetness on my fingers. [...]

Last year, 2019, on the eve of the Vernal Equinox, during the calling in of Spring, we stopped a late-season blizzard, halted it, [...]

We built a home of sunflower petals A big he loves me he loves me not We caroused in thunderstorms [...]

What is this love affair with an old memory? What hold does it have over you? Your thoughts, emotions, longings [...]

It needs to be scooped out, measured into containers like flour, salt and sugar in the cow-shaped bowl[...]

I lift the basket & set it by the roots. Each orange comes away clean, no sound but the soft thump as it lands. [...]

I told you everything I told you I’m not leaving the house today Nothing feels right and nothing is okay [...]

You think you can solve this country. Go ahead — circle it with your thumb, like a penny you can throw at a fast‑moving car. [...]

But wind only feels like flight when you are dry, and love only feels like love when you deserve it. [...]

Steering with one hand at 12 o’clock and with the other wrapped around a long-neck bottle [...]

There are 47 ceiling tiles in the waiting room. I have counted them seventeen times while the receptionist pretends not to notice [...]

We travelled like stars through three forests Densely protruding through thickets And tangled unceremoniously like hair.