Short Fiction and Poetry

When Robert Jacobs opened his eyes that morning, he knew it would be his last. He wasn’t sick or in pain; he just knew. [...]

we walk by the river talking inside ourselves, like rhapsodies in two reflections- different, but the same. [...]

It’s always at this time of the year, when summer’s passage into winter starts. Everything changes when it gets cold and the day shortens. [...]

My room is calmness. Here, in the haze of morning contours take shape, in this gray year that slowly lets go.

Alice was always asking Paul to scratch her back. She’d ask reflexively almost immediately after he sat down beside her on the couch. [...]

DarkWinter Press is thrilled to announce our latest release, the incredible poetry collection The Self is an Ocean by Cypher!

Where’s number six, the funeral director asks the young men before him. They shrug in unison. He’s always running late, one says. [...]

At Sunset Mother Speaks Of many things but Mostly of the dead. How their eyes are Open now. Finally. [...]

He became aware of two long fluorescent light panels and followed their march along the ceiling until he was stopped by double-doors. [...]

A summons to my own trial without as much as a day’s notice. No time to prep my defence. [...]