FIVE SOUTH

Fiction

A Parisian Affair by Kevin Wranovix

Inspiration is a foggy fellow, emerging from nothing, dissipating into nothing, answering to nothing.

Featured

Fiction

Our Theseus by Nathan Jefferson

Fiction

Robbing the Pillars by Marie Goyette

Poetry

The Call by Eben E. B. Bein

Fiction

Saturation by Claire Oleson

I no longer harangue every desk nurse at every hospital for a taxonomic breakdown of her bills. I don’t ask for the numbers of the Benadryl, the water cups, the abdominal touches done with gloved hands. I am the most American I’ve ever been—she costs what she costs and I eat it.

Night Elf Bildungsroman by S.C. Svendsgaard

I played a male Night Elf druid named Siladan Wintersinger.

The Mother-in-Law by Angela Sue Winsor

They wanted to get married. Something very small. They imagined what they were planning was modern and subversive and uniquely romantic, as if couples haven’t been rushing to courthouses every day for decades and decades.

Poetry

Caught by Chris Bullard

Old lungs puffing like gills, I beg to be thrown back to boyhood’s clear waters.

Second Winter Solstice During an Epidemic by Marianne Worthington

When my dog and I look at the sky we see haloes and fuzz, our sight clouded by a sameness.

Beautiful Generative Machine by David Fowler

those humans came from different jobs in different cities in different decades of my life

A Parisian Affair by Kevin Wranovix
Inspiration is a foggy fellow, emerging from nothing, dissipating into nothing, answering to nothing.
Our Theseus by Nathan Jefferson
Last week he was a dishwasher who his coworkers called Ricky. Today he’s a day laborer named Eddie, clearing a pair of fallen trees off a new build’s lawn and fixing up a large garden. Rotting plank ripped out, new plank inserted.
Robbing the Pillars by Marie Goyette
Ruth stood on the narrow iron bridge, gripping her father’s obsidian necklace, and wondered how many years it would take before the river wore them both down to nothing.
The Call by Eben E. B. Bein
I hungered into that quiet until— there—unbelievable!— a wolf spider scuttled onto a leaf.
Saturation by Claire Oleson
I no longer harangue every desk nurse at every hospital for a taxonomic breakdown of her bills. I don’t ask for the numbers of the Benadryl, the water cups, the abdominal touches done with gloved hands. I am the most American I’ve ever been—she costs what she costs and I eat it.