October 9, 2016

The Poetry of John Grey – A Look at the Modern Male Psyche

The Poetry of John Grey – A Look at the Modern Male Psyche

DEAD MAN PLUS INDIFFERENCE In the fading light of a city block, a soul’s stretched out on the bed of a second floor tenement, smeared with goo that attracts insects, shiny black things mostly: one that crawls across his lips as if testing his breath for takeoff, another with a wobbly gait like a drunk on a spree that finally drops into his earhole. On all sides – percussive indifference – staircase trampled by incessant feet, room above a cacophony of chair scrapes, apartment below, an interminable coughing fit, outside, traffic noise and the usual sidewalk hoodlums, loud veterans of their own impatience to be richer than their friends in jail. Dead man’s unmoved by the world around him as he is by the tiny creatures clinging to his skin. In better days, he would…

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October 7, 2016

A Ghastly Deluge: October Submissions

A Ghastly Deluge: October Submissions

The month of apple cider donuts and kids in costumes roaming the streets is always a fun time for me. From scary movies to crisp cool air, October is filled with signs, omens, of the impending darkness of winter. Our member contributions this month all have something a little eerie, even sinister, in them. We hope you enjoy our overflowing cornucopia of fiction, poetry, art, photography and video this month. Our first piece of fiction is a short story about a play. Bobby Mustin’s Theory of Evolution follows three people from the fictional play Titans taking heat from a couple who think their production is garbage. John Grey is our featured poet this month, bringing us poems about hell and dead men. You know, in case October wasn’t already Stephen King-y enough for you. Our…

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September 29, 2016

Win Real Coffee in the Fictional Cafe Sticker Contest!!

Win Real Coffee in the Fictional Cafe Sticker Contest!!

The Fictional Café (not a real café) is teaming up with Café Monte Alto (a real café) for a brand new contest. You may recall we recently came into some very real Fictional Café stickers. Well, you can win real coffee from Café Monte Alto by putting your very real Fictional Café sticker in the most creative place and sending us a picture of it. The person with the best sticker placement will receive an 8oz bag of any blend of coffee from Café Monte Alto and their winning photo will be featured on our website. Four more creative sticker affixers will each receive a 2oz bag of any blend of coffee from Café Monte Alto. To Enter: Simply email us and say you’d like to participate in the FC Sticker Contest and we’ll send you…

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September 13, 2016

Jessica Edouard’s Inspirational Artwork

Jessica Edouard’s Inspirational Artwork

                                    * * * Jessica Edouard is a historical romance novelist from the Pacific Northwest. She created her website, Send Sunshine to “touch as many people as possible with a vision of positivity and squelch our acceptance of negative influence.” You can find more of her writing on her website or at her Etsy shop.

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September 11, 2016

“Switzerland” by T.R. Healy

“Switzerland” by T.R. Healy

Seated on a three-legged stool, Neuheisel inhaled the steam rising from the cup of Costa Rican coffee then with a soup spoon broke the thin crust that began to appear at the surface of the cup. Briefly he closed his eyes then filled the spoon with coffee, leaned over, and noisily slurped it into his mouth. Jenny, the young woman he was training to be a barista, smiled. For a moment he let the coffee sit on his tongue, making sure it touched all his taste buds, then spit it out into a large brass bowl in the center of the table. “Now it’s your turn,” he said after filling her six ounce cup with coffee. Again she smiled, sliding a little closer to the table. “First off, you should identify the aroma. Is it…

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September 7, 2016

A Bevy of Poems by Paula Bonnell

A Bevy of Poems by Paula Bonnell

Waking from a Nightmare I am awash in the terrible seas of the night; dream waves lift me and drop me. Every hollow is a deep pit: water for drowning is its floor and I am sure to go under. Gold could be lead in this lack of light, and the sea so big no one could measure its changes. I am rising through blacknesses, drowned in the bleak shutting out of even the sheer blasts of the weather. And as I am rising, utterly lost, the dark water leaching my last warmth you are there soft in the bed beside me, the mercy of your flesh draped exactly on your skeleton. Your body posits axioms of warmth as you draw breath, confident as the geometer in the sand, and though the soldier strike you…

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September 5, 2016

“If Only They Could See Her Now!” by KJ Hannah Greenberg

“If Only They Could See Her Now!” by KJ Hannah Greenberg

Not only had Kimmy visited star systems far beyond the ken of her race, but she had left behind, in all viable places, descendants who copulated fruitfully and who lived twice the natural life span of her species. Though she had wished for a corner of the community chambers, what she had been granted was something far more wondrous. The adventure began when Kimmy returned home between trips of campers. There were three shifts and she was on payroll for the entire summer. Though both Ross and Dad had written to her, there was nothing like her familiar hibernaculum to ease her to sleep or to bring on handsome dreams. Sadly, Dad’s handwriting was becoming increasingly illegible. Like many great omnivores before him, he suffered from a combination of Fatty Liver Disease, Lethargy, and The…

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September 2, 2016

Lost in Thought: September Submissions

Lost in Thought: September Submissions

As those sunny summer days wind to a close, we start to wonder where the time went. I like to recall those days spent with head in the clouds, those hours sitting by the pond reflecting on life, while life reflected back at me. Our submissions this month are all about such head-in-the-clouds moments. Thomas Healy starts our offerings with his short story “Switzerland,” in which we see a man who sits all day by a fountain, lost in thought. To where does his mind venture? Where would yours go? Next up we have the poetry of Paula Bonnell. She ponders the “somedays” of life alongside vivid descriptions of nightmares past. Read along to see where her eyes and mind bring you. For our art this month, we feature the inspirational images of Jessica Edouard…

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August 23, 2016

“Fear of Commitment: My Relationship with Writing, Time and Discipline” by Rachael Allen

“Fear of Commitment: My Relationship with Writing, Time and Discipline” by Rachael Allen

Time moves differently when I’m home from college. An hour at home means deciding what to do, watching two Food Network episodes at my grandparents’ house, driving to the beach, or puttering out half-sentences at my computer that I tell myself I’ll finish later. An hour at school means completing a homework assignment, attending a newspaper meeting, reveling in this unusually lengthy chunk of free time, or simply talking with roommates right before bed, making me lose sleep but feel the good tired of a full day. This discrepancy in time is a welcome product of summer and its lazy days of food excess, television and marathon reading (most recently for me, Emma Cline’s The Girls and, of course, the latest Harry Potter). It’s also a product of place. School is an academic environment of…

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August 11, 2016

“Coffee in the Moonlight” by Paul Germano

“Coffee in the Moonlight” by Paul Germano

Her name rolls off my tongue like a sweet puff of smoke. She is a potent mix of innocence and caution with vibrant black hair, smooth alabaster skin and a slender willowy frame. She seems completely unaware of her own beauty. And she is here, in my apartment. She was reluctant, at first, to stop by. She had heard far too much about me from a misguided co-worker who had raised the red flag. She wouldn’t say his name, but I knew who did the trash-talking. When time permits, I’ll have a little chat with him, make sure he knows not to stick his nose in my business. She stood there, yesterday afternoon, in the drab grey-carpeted hallway of our stuffy downtown Syracuse office building, her body swaying, reluctance in her soft voice as she…

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