By L.M. Moore
My memory’s not what it should be. Not for someone my age. Sometimes I forget where I parked my truck.
Properly Dark
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Issue 34
Latest Reviews
Featured Interview
Newest Essay
Slingin’ Pearl
By Itto and Mekiya Outini
Everything was going according to plan until Sequoya had to take a shit. “Guys,” she radioed over to Jared and Cleo in the cruiser, “it’s a code brown. Cover me.”
In Heaven Everything is Fine
By Grant Maierhofer
It was June. He sat on the couch, bound firmly in his marriage, his fatherhood, his life. The dog sat next to him, or lay further down the couch on a small pillow.
My Priest Predicted I’d Be a Spy
By Garima Chhikara
My kundali—my Hindu astrology chart—says I must not keep a weapon at home. That’s not even a thing in kundalis. I googled it, checked my sister’s too.
Little White Monkeys
By Manshuk Kali
Translated by Slava Faybysh
The woman lays the ultrasound results on her doctor’s table, to the right of the desk calendar advertising low-hormone birth control pills and next to the life-sized model of the female reproductive system…
witness to the non-arrival
By Stacey C. Johnson
some inherit land, and others silence.
I took in the riddle of loam—
where the unspoken ones are buried
After the Simulation Learns to Listen
By David Anson Lee
I have watched universes
fail their stress tests.
I have watched one succeed
by accident.
Poor Thing
By Claire Salvato
I’d begun practicing feeling the way I wanted to.
Hot Tub Paul Hollywood
By Garth Robinson
Jarrett’s hot tub arrived and my heart ached. What a life of impossible good fortune, I thought. It was the same as if he had bought a one-million-dollar yacht, or a fridge that talked at you and made ice on command.
Montara
By James Nulick
It’s hard to tell time this close to the sea, it’s always grey and misty here, like the sun is camera-shy.
Two Millimeters In
By Jade Kleiner
Doing her mascara, Ashley more than poked her left eye. The applicator went two millimeters in.
To Understand Light
By Ricardo Bernhard
When Porter sits on his favorite bench in late afternoons in March, there’s a quality to the square’s palette that takes him to the faux Eliseu Visconti painting he did while bored in his thirties.
Apartment 304
By Rowan MacDonald
The apartment was on the fifth floor, and the building had no lift. I barely knew where I was, had lost sense of time and place somewhere over the Pacific.
with history trapped inside us
By Stacey C. Johnson
The problem in the highway days was where to begin.
Even the lions we imagined becoming went lame.
Our backs bent early, sights set on oblivion.
New in Town
By Alex Dodt
We descended on rented birds of fire, runted gods
porting power cords and lording neck pillows.
We pulled the chute and touched down
Missiles Like Low Ceilings
By Will Falk
Missiles like low ceilings, helmet-to-helmet contact,
or a ski accident. You don’t remember snow but you do
The Sigh of a Man
By Davey Long
camping in the back seat of my boyfriend’s car.
he’s trying to explain engines to me: clutch piston crankshaft axle pressure
Abduction III
By Jo Ann Clark
My kundali—my Hindu astrology chart—says I must not keep a weapon at home. That’s not even a thing in kundalis. I googled it, checked my sister’s too.
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Cover art by Richard Hanus