The Journal

A Man Forbid by Jon Sindell

By: Jon Sindell – Posted: December 8, 2014

Soil rich black and moist yearned like woman awaiting the seed. The sleeper’s lips trembled as the dreamer beheld a single seedling emerging from the soil, teardrop leaves of luminous green arching out from its crotch, the soil black and moist as the gigantic wedges of cake in the magazine ads his mother would paste to the fridge like a dream of home life…

Not His Fault by Tisha Reichle

By: Tisha Reichle – Posted: November 24, 2014

“They’ve gotta do something or we’ll be doomed for another decade.” I leave their sticky juice for him to rinse, and I drop the collected crumbs into the trash on my way to the bathroom to finish reading the sports section.
“Not his fault,” he calls to my back as I close the door.
“Nothing ever is,” I mutter as I turn on the fan light. Its overly loud growl mutes anything else he might say.

Rain, Like A Curtain by RS Paulette

By: RS Paulette – Posted: November 17, 2014

When he pulls away, I can taste a tang of rainwater on my lips, wishing it was the taste of him. He opens the car door, motions for me to get inside, and follows in after…

Pastures in the Sand by Jonathan Danielson

By: Jonathan Danielson – Posted: November 10, 2014

The three men stayed silent as the ball rose above the gentle curve of the Earth, then sailed over the dry green course, which weaved through the saguaros of the desert. The desert that, until Monty’s company built the course some thirty-five years earlier, had never once even fostered a single blade of grass.

War Stories by Robert Mundy

By: Robert Mundy – Posted: November 3, 2014

Maybe it was because his dad was a hard-ass, working on the kill floor at Swifts packing plant for thirty-five years until he dropped dead of a heart attack and joined Joe’s mother who had died of cancer when Joe was ten. Or maybe it was pretty much raising himself, an only child, no older brother, or cousin or anyone else to help fight your schoolyard fights or at least tell somebody to lay off.

Virulence by Morgan Beatty

By: Morgan Beatty – Posted: October 27, 2014

The videos on our site were artful, meaning crafty. Meaning, they become a part of you, they twist your tastes and cannot be unlearned. Choosing to watch is an important part of the experience. It’s the experience. You have to want to choose, then you click, then watch, each step a descent into nausea, your boredom wiped away, primal curiosity slaked. Download, delete, forward or press pause mid-way, it doesn’t matter: mind-whipped and virulent, you’ve seen it.

Legal. Tender. by Susan Scutti

By: Susan Scutti – Posted: October 20, 2014

I watch them move like two planets orbiting one another — rarely touching, rarely looking into one another’s eyes. When at times their eyes meet, it seems as though too much meaning is in the look they share to be necessary for the stuff of daily living…

The Dwindling of a Torrid Relationship by Owen Goodwyne

I’m not busy for the first ten-minute span since eight this morning. The whirring in my head dissipates; the centrifuge has been idle for an hour. Tuesdays and Thursdays, six to midnight, I work this lab to pay rent—nine-hundred monthly for a subterranean cubicle with access to a stove, sink, commode, work table and a stall meant to be a shower. Despite the ban on overnight guests, it’s a bargain because I have the visual use of a large room with stored furniture and racks of a former tenant’s art.

What Was Her Name? by Nick R. Robinson

I’d learned from personal experience that life was hardscrabble. Pops always said, “Shit that don’t kill you will only make you stronger.” She would be stronger after today, I told myself. Still, I needed to hear her voice again…

The Gleaners by Marjorie Robertson

It all started when Baba came home from Cairo. That was when you got those crazy ideas, they say. At night in the coolness of our stone house the soft roar of trucks on the highway to Rabat came and went like ocean waves, and we whispered to one another through the curtain separating our rooms.

  • The SFWP Journal was founded in 2002 and is home to an eclectic group of authors. The journal's mission is to recognize excellence in writing and provide a voice for the SFWP community. Find out more about us right here. Interested in writing for SFWP? Please visit the submissions page for more information.

  • Archives

  • Categories

  • Tags