"It is a sad fact about our culture that a poet can earn much more money writing or talking about his art than he can by practicing it.”– W.H. AudenAs someone who makes their livi

She is alone, so alone in the mausoleum of her apartment that when the ant climbs up the table leg and across the placemat and into the tar pit of syrup left behind on her plate from the pancakes s…

As we count down to our debut story on February 1st – which then kicks off a new story dropping every other week – we wanted to first take a closer look at what makes flash fiction resonate as it d…

Every year on May fifth, Marilyn combs the industrial streets near the Iwalei methadone clinic looking for her son so she can buy him lunch. She drives slowly, examining the broken people passed ou…

You used to think you might marry Markus Mayer when you grew up, but now you want to peel every freckle off his face and prove he’s a liar. “I’m not scared of ghosts,” you say when he tells you Mr.…

By the time Mom has disappeared under the sheets, surrendering to an eighties’ playlist heavy on Depeche Mode and Talking Heads, it is too late to reel her back. She has seen everything, all the tr…

Death has done wonders for Hank’s cratered face. His phantom eyes are clear. His diarrhea and bellyache, gone. His ratty boudoir was upstairs with its view of the industrial harbor. Now it’s made o…

She halfheartedly pushes his hand away as his fingers ease under the hem of her shorts. She looks over her shoulder into the backseat. “Concentrate on your driving, mister.” He trails his fingers u…

“You like go cruise?” our boyfriends ask us on a Friday night, their heavy voices, weighing down the cordless phone in our hands. “We can meet everyone in the Sack ‘n Save parking lot bumbai, drink…

Julia returned home from her business trip with the small state of Luxembourg in her purse. Her husband, Mike, knew something was up right away and wasted no time in confronting her over his homema…

My mother-in-law came to visit when my wife was out of town. She’d bought her plane ticket right before Melody got sent to Maine for work. The flight would have been a thousand dollars to change. I…

Emerge Literary Journal: 2021   Editor’s Note Thank you for believing in our little journal, in our contributors, both established and emerging, and most of all, the power of literature.…

Everyone’s afraid of the woman. She died with her tiny daughter in the swimming pool. No: a man came and drowned her and now her ghost forever searches for her little girl. Or was it that she died …

The popular girls will see the star quarterback talking to one of the nobody girls, his foot hiked up against the locker door, shoulder pads slung over one shoulder, and their bodies will tense, ea…

I grew up in the house where my mother’s body crumpled and dried, brittling into a flower. It was the same house where my sisters lost parts of themselves, their ignorance blissful and fleeting and…

“It’s a trick of the light, honey,” her stepfather said, meaning it’s not like a whale is about to surface. One hand on her arm so he wouldn’t topple, they were standing there on the side of the bo…

I watch Father’s new wife add Kalamata olives to the dough. Their residue leaves ochre-green patches, like wounds on skin. Sliced, the bread will look as if capillaries have burst inside the …

My mother sleeps in my bedside mirror, primping and shuffling missives from my prince who writes to me only in spy green ink. There is never good sleep there because of my pea-filled mattress she f…