The pandemic grinds on. Gone are the days of cheerful bread baking and thinking this will blow over. We’re all out of Netflix shows. We’re stuck staring at the wall, projecting our worst visions of the future onto it like Plato’s cave. Ah, but we still have literature. I believe literature has the power to sustain us through the darkness. It helps us understand the darkness around us and within us. We offer to you now our own little Decameron. The pieces in this issue contain wanton destruction, ghosts, loss, grief, mental illness, and fear. We hope you find shelter from the storm in them. 

Cheers,

Meagan Masterman

Managing Editor

Issue 2, August 2020

Four Ghost Poems

Reverend Ralph Hardy Photographs The Tulip Staircase Ghost, 1966 experts from Kodak say there...

a list of memories that end with you still alive

when the dollop of ink that was once my appendix was scooped from...

Capture the Moment

The Number You Have Dialed Is No Longer in Service Since you’ve been...

How to Burn Down an Applebee’s and Why

Sean I found Jerry painting his mom's house in the rain. He was...

Two Poems

Dilemma When I was a girl, snail shells were magical, especially once the...

Two Poems

I Dream My Ex Is calling me     I am eighteen     trapped     want to cutover the phone     she...

Meathead in America

Author's note: In The Relation of Álvar NúñezCabeza de Vaca (1542), the eponymous narrator stumbles, slips,...


Whiskey Tit Journal’s Raison D’Être