Sarah Kubik | ANGLES

JET BLACK BATH WATER

Apr 19, 2018 | Fiction, Issue 3 - Spring 2018 |

I sit in the cafeteria of the university I used to go to, reading and re-reading the message she sent me.

TWO POEMS

Apr 19, 2018 | Issue 3 - Spring 2018, Poetry |

Augury// Birds came to snap their necks against our windows because we’d built this house,...

A CAR RIDE, MOMENTS BEFORE IT RAINS

Apr 19, 2018 | Fiction, Issue 3 - Spring 2018 |

I can only get flashes of her- her dark, thick, long hair. Her strong nose, pointed and elongated by the shadows surrounding us.

DARWIN’S DAUGHTER

Apr 16, 2018 | Creative Nonfiction, Issue 3 - Spring 2018 |

The word mastodon means “breast tooth.” You would think it means something different, perhaps something to do with chewing because of the words “mastication” and “orthodontics,” but you’d be wrong

THE LIBRARY AT NIGHT

Apr 16, 2018 | Fiction, Fiction, Issue 3, Issue 3 - Spring 2018 |

The library is a strange place at night, I am told. Filled with odd things, apparently. I hear that the ghosts of books flit around the shelves, mixing with each other.