Bear Creek Gazette Prose Competition Winners
by Fahad Rahmat
by Kirsten Reneau
by Lauren Suchenski
by Nicks Walker
by Matt Hiebert
"After a period of twenty-two years during which time Iorgo did not create art because of his paralyzing fear that ferrets would seek him out and defecate on his paint brushes, Mr. Valva went into a frenzied period of work that lasted until his death at age sixty-eight"
Photo - Inge Doumoulin
"I can see how you might be disappointed in me, how you might get outraged and come to my house with your pitchforks and tiki torches and wake me up in the middle of the night to murder me where I stand"
The Grizzly Sunday Strip #3
"If it weren’t for the surprise of his behavior I might have really leaned into this simulation idea like I was fucking crazy. But dad, well I come close to saying he was a husk, but it was different than that, almost as if he had always had one but was shed of it and underneath was this raw, vulnerable thing"
Cryptids: Special Feature
The Art of M.K Wilson
by Sam Pink
This one starts with a fuck no
to most everything
by Steve Neal
Once we exited the greenhouse, Gertrude beamed as she talked about the grand finale awaiting us
by Isla O'Neill
Please call Bear Creek Elementary for the janitorial position. They promised it to you long ago
by Michael James
I’ve been with my husband for 25 years, and lately he’s seemed distant. Distracted. Can you suggest anything to bring the banana, so to speak, back into our relationship?
by Alex Woodroe
She liked to call it Graveyard Strudel, on account of where she’d get the pumpkin, and I’m gonna tell you more about that later
by Jacob Browne
Many things doest hide within the blind spot. We knowest not. Cannot know. We canst but hope. Or feareth the worst. The worst terrors remaineth darkened
by James C. Holland
Hello, my green-fingered friends! Spring is here! The bees are abuzzing and the worms have returned to their holes
by Noa Covo
I did not know what I felt for the wasp girl at first. Finding yourself is difficult in this town
by Zora Graves
I’ve heard it said that “decay is a slow process in a Bear Creek winter.” I don’t think this is truer anywhere than the cannery
by Aj Maiorana
"This can’t last forever,” he said, “when it all goes back to normal, I don’t wanna worry about the little things I did
by Tiffany Belieu
My entrance tonight is heralded by a few chimed bars of The Monster Mash. A little something for the human clientele looking for some entertainment with their shopping.
by Tyler Dempsey
This box was different, than how it, on the outside, looked, as Mama reached her hand inside. In fact—what Mama pulled up, was bigger, than what, on the outside, this box was.
by Clio Velentza
They crawl under the bed: one face, one pair of bodies, one bottle of plum brandy
by Charles Hermesmann
As much as she hated having a son, and as much as she refused to believe in the existence of God, Martha began to pray on her knees every night—not for Thomas, but to Thomas: the Boy Master of Death
by Gabriel Hart
I couldn’t help it — I started crying right there in the library. Not that I really cared about this fictional character — it was almost as if I felt trapped in my own country, shackled to the American death march
by Coleman Bomar