Short Fiction
The Ducks in Winter
I even envy my old life now, my own youth, so I start rearranging the furniture to make the past come back, or some of it.
Beneath a Vacant Sky
Marla is convinced that if the moon hadn’t exploded, Austin would’ve kissed her.
The Pool Party
She knew she wasn’t supposed to see the kiss or the way the dark-haired boy stroked Josh’s back. And yet she did see.
The Caterpillar Plant
He squatted down, studying the way their bodies would scrunch together and expand outwards with each step. He knew they’d be butterflies but couldn’t see how.
Your Grandmother's Antique
Your grandmother, whose mouth you know so well, once told you the body will listen when the earth speaks.
Rewriting History
It’s hot, air thick / as maple syrup, and mosquitos feast / on any flesh they find. Our bites bleed / blue as we lie in the grass
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Ruminate Community
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The Waking is an online literary magazine and a part of the Ruminate creative community that houses high-quality literary writing about what it’s like to be human. We are interested in short-form prose and image-text hybrid work. This art can be beautiful, it can be strange, we just ask that it feels true.