Short Fiction and Poetry

An Edison bulb is nostalgia, swinging like a disjointed eyeball. Slubbed grease toes, maintenance of viper pronged gastrointestinal gears. [...]

The water moved so fast as it hurled itself  over the upper falls. The rapids were of which I had never seen.  The majestic power [...]

Under cover of night A cold chill ensuing; Something wasn’t Quite right, [...]

DarkWinter Literary Magazine is thrilled to announce our 2025 Best Of The Net nominees! [...]

I listen to dark jazz In the shadows and corners Of my mind Its unrelenting beat Thrums against my sanity [...]

“It’s all about balance,” Shirlene said, Tying the surgical cord around Her arm, with Trembling fingers [...]

Living among the beach gulls, the turtles crawling back into the ocean are torches battling the salty wind [...]

Sure, an oyster holds secrets but I own an oyster knife. I can read that thought every morning in my lover's eyes as I wake her [...]

Let t be time, a linear axis—or so we believe. Yet time does not move forward; it folds: [...]

Why does your ghost attach itself to me What raving aching delights it so To lick at my fingers in fever’s chill [...]

DarkWinter Press is thrilled to announce our latest release, the poetry collection Quantum, by Irina Moga [...]

We fell into pauper’s tears, into the crime of shadows We fell deeply like wells without wall [...]

The four corners of the wind square off against each other. Blowing snow obliterates the view we accepted years ago [...]

My mother sang to me                              before I was born, ivory melodies that urged me to grow [...]

good things do not come to those who wait forever and ever epoch upon epoch of eagerness [...]

Waving a fistlike polyp, telling the crowd which omnipotent conspiracy to hate next, he cries [...]

My mother sits upon my chest, her talons tightening around my breast until I bled. Her steel grip silences my voice. [...]

An online obit with a photo. Five years ago. Blow-dried cloud around her head. Gone. [...]

Once the Christmas lights and window-candles have gone down cellar for another year, winter’s thief steals the remaining light, [...]

You’ve never gone to sea, but you’ve spent dark clots of time adrift, translating sounds outside the window. [...]