Short Fiction and Poetry

5:30 p.m. Dark already. And cold. Just want to get home, enjoy a glass of wine, eat something, put on my pajamas, watch TV or a movie [...]

do you ever remember the spring or summer sun, the rains that make the wildflowers to blossom and the wood and metal bridges [...]

The familiar sound of the dial-up modem bleated into the kitchen from across the house. Emmitt turned the volume knob up [...]

DarkWinter Lit is thrilled to announce that The Interview by Christopher Waldrop was chosen as the winning short story entry [...]

see me flail upon the riverbank I cannot breathe I said my body’s long brawn unwatered [...]

A lemon rolls down the aisle of church. The Monseigneur bends down to pick it up. The lemon is as blinding yellow as a banana from space[..]

I don’t remember how we met. Everyone says it was in preschool, but I couldn’t tell you what we said to each other [...]

Arthritis and aging make it hard, I walk gingerly, with a cane, and walk slow, bent forward, fear threats, falls, fear denouement─[...]

I remembered the room because of its blaring lack of remarkability. The bed was blue, the couch light blue. The rug was also light blue[...]

Raina went out to play with her friends as she did every day after school. She was a precocious seven-year-old [...]