To the readers of Twin Flame Literary, We are so excited to present our fourth issue for your enjoyment! These 18 pieces—12 poems and 6 pieces of prose—highlight the types of voices we hoped for when creating Twin Flame Literary. In these pieces of writing, whether you are reading about weathering Hurricane Maria, or a contemplation of New […]
Letter From The Editor #4 Read More »
by Robin J Bartley Mooney Greenwall was born to be a girl on fire. She came dancing out of the womb to a family of ten siblings, two parents, and was strapped in the most handed down pair of tap shoes her family could afford, and they afforded very little. Her parents had nine older
by Wren Douglas Wren Douglas is an SFF author from Italy, where they live with their devilish cats and one sprightly old dog. Their work has been featured in Strange Horizons, Kaleidotrope, and the 2023 Lambda finalist anthology XENOCULTIVARS: Stories of Queer Growth, among other venues. They’re @awritingwren on Bluesky
by Angelina Fay I didn’t know it was the last time –It caught me in the turnstileavoiding my mind’s eye In a world not unchangednow the knowing comes in wavesand on every street cornerI’m seeking your frame trains hiss through tunnel veinsand thoughts fall heavy like a rain all fall to the summer from spring
everyone in midtown looks like my dad Read More »
by Michael Fowler The local job fair was held at the bus station, west of the center of town near the wax museum. Much to the annoyance of travelers, hundreds of job hopefuls filled the seats across from the toilets and ticket counters, muttering their CVs into the air for strolling headhunters to hear. I
a consciousness not yet considered Read More »
by Arlie Moberly When the news comes about the fellowship, it’s him she phones first. He is the one who rooted music in her brain, in her blood, in the very way she’s wired. He is where all of this started. It was his records playing in the living room when she was five, six,
by Elena Goh There is a story among the angels. Sometimes it’s circulated as an urban legend, sometimes a cautionary tale. About boundaries and safety and the limitations of God’s brightest creatures (I never figured out which of the two the last bit was referring to). It goes something like this. In the
love and other impossibilities Read More »
by Dr. Jacek Blaszkiewicz “Now that’s a unique name,” the clerk replies to the boy in the blue slacks and blue polo with theembroidered crucifix. “Different. Not even attempting the last name.”The mother hovers behind Mieszko, her White Diamonds perfume penetrating the plexiglass likesmoke. She does not smile. Her resting deer-in-headlights pout matches the expression
by Victor Benito When rabid winds would snarl against our windows, Papi would rein our family into the hallway at the back of the house. He would make us crouch down while he turned off all the lights, and my mother lined us up along the walls. Then my parents would each sit on the
by Costantino Toth After “The Decameron” The cuss and valanga’s part of the duet. The mountain’s a dreaming orange, and you, you need a hard drink. This is routine, after all. Routine. A cloud making the evening strobe. You shouldering through trees for earshot, ringing like an empty glass. The mountain’s