TABLE OF CONTENTS
“Editor’s Notes” by A.P. Matlock
“Festival” by Emile Dayne
“Reconstruction” by Rik Hoskin
“Down in One Round” by Nick Nafpliotis
Release Date: 07/29/2014by
There’s something moving by the garden fence. Mice, again? Or worse, a rat? Debra puts the washing basket down and almost calls out for Stuart, but then she remembers.
She edges closer. Curled around the cracked base of her abandoned flower pot is a huge slug, sleek and iridescent in the patchy afternoon sun. Once, she would have worried about how to get rid of it, but there’s no point now.
“I wouldn’t stop here,” she tells it. “You’ll go hungry.”
Because there’s nothing for it to feed on in her blighted garden. Not unless it eats gravel and dry, yellowing grass. Continue readingby
These were our top stories/non-fiction for 2013.
1. “Waking Up from the American Dream” by David Annandale
2. “A Pair of Ragged Claws” by Kate Heartfield
3. “Nainaine of the Bayou” by Christopher Keelty
4. “Rattlesnake Eyes” by Josh Reynolds
5. “Ascending” by F.J. Bergmann
The list was compiled based on the number of unique page views received.by
Here’s how 2014 will look for us:
Issue 6 - February 4, 2014
Issue 6 - April 11, 2014
Issue 7 - June 10, 2014
Issue 8 - August 5, 2014
Issue 9 - October 8, 2014 (Halloween Themed)
Issue 10 - December 9, 2014
We’re currently caught up to
December 2013 February 2014 for submissions and have a good collection of maybes for our February April issue.
If you submitted prior to
December 2013 February 2014 and haven’t heard from us yet, send a query to our submissions address.
Due to some unforeseen circumstances, there is not going to be a December issue.
Any submissions currently in the queue will be under consideration for our next issue (January 14th). You are free to withdraw your submission, just pop off an email to let us know.
Please do not be concerned. This is not the end of Black Treacle Magazine. Consider it a winter-break(down)
Somewhere far away, someone was burning leaves. When the breeze blew, the smell reached the farm grounds, somehow crowding out the nearer aromas of frying donuts and baking pies and simmering apple cider. The noise—the babble and movement of a few dozen people, the laughter and shrieks and running footsteps of children, the crying of at least one baby at any given moment, it seemed—receded, too, when the smell was present, as if Paul’s senses were straining exclusively toward the sharp fragrance of invisible smoke. Continue readingby