Issue the Fourth Ezine

IT4 Cover.png
IT4 Cover.png

Issue the Fourth Ezine


Deep into the mist we go— Welcome to Shadow Season, darklings. Issue the Fourth explores liminal spaces, secrets and forgetting, knowing and unknowing and all that is between. We delve into the marrow of what is and is not, and sit comfortably in the shadowy depths of our discomfort.

In this issue….

Poetry and Short Writing


Qurat D.


“When my mother was expecting me,

she dreamt of the Holy Book

and she was so radiant, with the splendor of a new

moon, that the world was certain

she’d be blessed with a son.”

Monica Mody

The Witch on My Grandmother’s Mountain

“Tusheeta, your name thunders

between clouds as clouds rise

from underwing of ocean

& stride across to meet sky

transforming into heavy-lidded desire”

Sarah Guthu

Daughter of Secrets

“In fire season the air clots with smoke. In the garden, the pea vines wither and crisp. I tear them out, snapping tendrils. I gather them into a bundle, tramp it flat. In autumn I’ll bury them; their tattered bones will release the nitrogen they borrowed, passing it like a book to the next generation.”

Holly Karlsson

Mama's Chest of Bones

“Mama’s cedar chest is full of bones. It’s a large chest, nearly the width of her creaky, queen-sized bed, and it has always sat pushed up close against the white metal frame, for as long as I can remember. It’s been scratched and spilled on, and the little brass keyhole won’t take a key anymore. Today I finally managed to pry it open, with nothing more than a hair pin, twisted straight with my teeth, and a belly full of idle curiosity.”

Shawn McCall

hands which whisper

“Death is a casual stranger.  Sometimes I see her on the street and I smile and nod or sometimes barely look up.  I hear his voice, a visitor talking in the cubicle across the room. I don't bump into Death.  I don't shake hands. I don't seek out Death's eyes. Maybe I want to, though. Maybe I should.  I'm a line-strider, right? A hedge-rider? I'm a witch, aren't I? Aren't I supposed to nuzzle up to Death like a warm blanket in the cold?  


Ali Jones

Bone Women

“Once there was a bone bundle,

a woman taken apart, who needed to be remembered.

The grandmothers live in secret places, can only found

with your eyes closed, after dark.”

Erin Emily Ann Vance

Little Sister, Leaving Bluebeard and Witch Going to the Sabbath 1957

“Mother died and left me alone with it. I wrapped it like a child in a shroud and shut it in its box. It wailed from the armoire in the cellar. I shut my ears to it. I shut all the doors. I locked all the windows. I slept in a circle of salt.”

Kailey Tedesco

black mood and pessary/oubliette

today is the day i become

a girl of swans, not

pigeons, not prussic

acid – i buy the lamps

of silk-screen & beads

with the coins i always

asked for.”



Melissa Marquez

Inverted Orb of Eternity

Martha Balaile


Ana Sora

Limpieza de Otoño

Jodie Day

The notion of being a being

Regular Columns

Lindsay Luna Holt

The Heart of Blending

Excerpt not available.

Nicole Colinarez

The Oracle

Excerpt not available.

Sara Blackthorne


Excerpt not available.

Rachel Ballard

The Poison Path

Excerpt not available.

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