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Doom junkie of a mistress.

PERSEPHONE BY CRAIG CONSTANTINE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 138 PREVIEW

We fed on each other’s sadness. We were junkies for nihilism.

She wouldn’t be late.

THEY SAY IT’S LIKE DROWNING BY AMY PURCELL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 138 PREVIEW

It was after three in the morning, Cass pulled on her damp bikini, struggled into her sweatpants and jacket. She drove to the Y. She wouldn’t be late.

Your friend dies in a 

random hotel room in Idaho.

CONSUMPTION BY NADA JABBOURI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 137

You convince yourself that maybe you’re paying homage to him by living like he did. You drive recklessly and treat the people who care about you like shit.

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Taking his stash was a bad idea.

THE BIN BEHIND CAVANAUGH’S BY DESMA CAPUTO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 137

Now here she was. Stuck in a charity bin. What a fucking life.                                      

 Heartbreak House was   

 a real house, my house.

HEARTBREAK HOUSE BY LEONARD BEEGHLEY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 137

The war would make America into its own heartbreak house.

MAMA BY KIMBERLY THEODORE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 136

mama, did you know i got my period six months before i actually told you? i was afraid my bleeding would inconvenience you more than i already did 

i was afraid my bleeding would inconvenience you

Like the bomb on Nagasaki all over again.

FINDING FEATHER BY NICOLE PEPAJ 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 136

.I drank the Kool-Aid hard, shoved it into my brain through a metal IV tube, rewired every neuron for this one relentless purpose. Being a Hotshot.

Her eyes drift.

THE NEXT YOUNGEST DAUGHTER BY JR BARNER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 114

She’s read (just) enough Nabokov to know where this is all heading. 

The surf is forever.

STARTING AGAIN BY LINDSAY SMITH 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 136

We could be archaeologists together, together all the time, digging in the sand for ancient relics.

You’re a star in the making. Feel good?

IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE FUN BY ZACH SWISS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 42

Now nothing is working, her serve has gone limp, her movement is sluggish. As the games tick away panic clouds her judgment. She tries to make every serve an ace, every groundstroke a winner, most miss and the sense of panic rises, a self-defeating loop. 

Baby.

BABY BY DESMA CAPUTO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 135

Baby baby baby.

Your girlfriend’s been in an accident, they said on the phone. 

MOTORCYCLE BY CHRISTOPHER HEFFERNAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 134

What’s left of the motorcycle is in pieces in the front yard. The fork bent in an S and the front wheel caved in.

I think you’ll want to be there.

AN ANGEL ROSE INTO THE SKY BY SCOTT GARRIOTT 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 133

And here we stood. The land lying dark before us, AND AN ANGEL AROSE ON WINGS OF FIRE, TO SMITE THE FORCES OF DARKNESS.

I was a daddy’s girl.

CAN YOU REACH THE LEAVES? BY ALEXANDRIA GREEN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 131

Maybe I had a sixth sense, but I think I recognized his loneliness even before I saw it in myself.

I cannot open myself.txt

MYSELF.TXT BY GORDAN STRUIĆ 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 131

Just a flicker in corrupted memory — a glitch inside a failed save.

Delilah discovered this wine that’s only 14 bucks a bottle and pretty damn good.

WHAT GOOD IS LOVE BY EMILY GARCÍA 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 115

By the time it’s past midnight and we’ve gone through four bottles she’s asleep on the couch.

I am (wo)man.

I AM (WO)MAN BY SAMMY T ANDERSON 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 129

I am a man. Y chromosomes and body hair and angry brow, oooh ahh’n in locker rooms searing skin off my flesh with dirty BIC lighters.

There is still joy, life, and even hope.

DISCO ELYSIUM: FIRST AS FARCE, THEN AS SALVATION BY URIEL HERSZAGE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 124

They are transformed into the very thing that will save the world.

I feel more at home here than anywhere else on earth.

THE TRAGEDY OF THE ROSEMARKIE SEAL BY EMILY NEVES 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 103

I turn my back to the cave wall and look out. The slope of the hill and a little green bramble with a spray of yellow flowers partially obscures one side of the opening and on the other side I see the green-gray sea reaching to the horizon. I think I could live here if I had to. 

Grandma makes egg mcmuffins 

and lets us watch R-rated movies.

SINGLE MOMS HAVE COZY APARTMENTS BY SE DIAMOND 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 99

Since Jennifer’s mom is a biker and goes out a lot, Jennifer usually stays at her grandmother’s house where she can have a more stable childhood. I love sleeping over there because her grandma makes egg mcmuffins and lets us watch R-rated movies.

Do you value your phone more highly than your life?

ON THE SUBWAY TO BROOKLYN BY RICHARD ABRAMSON 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 122

I smash the phone as hard as I can. The glass shatters and falls away in pieces, and the guts of the thing spill out. I smash it again and the case cracks, I smash it again and it folds in on itself, and I keep smashing it, over and over and over.

Cotton tassels dangle

in the corners of a mind.

TASSELS BY SARAH JANE JUSTICE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 118

one by one the tassels slip from hands that can’t remember when to not let go

 See if god is listening. 

INTERNAL VOICES BY TRAVIS COBB 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 81

Inside this Tower of Babel where nothing gets said. Put out what you need to speak. See if god is listening. 

My AI partner scolds me for bad praxis.

And they’re right.

MY AI PARTNER SCOLDS ME FOR BAD PRAXIS BY SHAUN HOLLOWAY 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 117

Dark Angel was the song he dedicated to Susie. 

DOWN THE ROAD A PIECE BY BERNIE HAFELI 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 11

She blew him a kiss. It was like he could see it rise above the smoke and neon and glide lazily toward the stage, a rose petal in the evening breeze. Momentarily he stopped strumming, reached up and caught it.

It’s just like a photo, we think.

THE FLATNESS OF HYPER-REALISM BY ALLISON RICHARDS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 110

We viewers cannot paint perfect figures, so we don’t make art. We don’t have the time, so we don’t make art. We watch a video on TikTok and the end result looks more real than our goddamn reflection in the mirror, and so we don’t make art. 

Some days Cole could go for hours forgetting Collette.     

NO SMOEKING BY S LEE BENNETT 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 95

She did not exist in his head any more. Nor had she for years. The name did not anger him as it once did, but it still saddened him. And more than anything confused him. Collette was no longer a person he recognized himself to be.

Bukowski said that there was everything and nothing.

BUKOWSKI BY CRISTINA CARTER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 47

I want to eat the dirt from your grave. I want to find your words and spit them out.

Head bangin’ 

ass shakin’ balm.

PLAYLIST FOR THE WORST DAYS BY JAWNO OKHIULU 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 108

A mix of rhythm, funk, soul, and soapbox prophecy cut with love, grief, rage, and acceptance.

Pick the ending you want.

DEAD CAT BY MELVIN STERNE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 96

What’s the most likely ending? What’s the worst-case scenario? What’s the best ending? There’s a billion potential endings. Pick one.

I made it through. 

On my own.

MACHINE GIRL BY REBECCA EGAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 96

I want a signal that screams I made it through. On my own. I found a way out. 

I closed my eyes and

tried to see life like you did.


We saw an old couple resting on a bench, their bodies sighing into each other, and you cried for tenderness. We saw a group of city children rooting in the mud, their faces lit with primal wonder, and you cried for innocence. You saw a row of ducklings trailing behind their mother in a sickly pond ringed with algae and you cried for motherhood.

LOVE AND PHILODENDRON BY PATRICK SEAMAN 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 83

Everything, she thought, 

is an accident of where you are.

STEALING HOME BY KAY BONTEMPO 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 78

Two bell peppers, Muenster cheese. Cauliflower, a pack of Newports, Tampax. Martinelli’s apple juice. Paper towels two-ply. English Breakfast tea. Boil-in-a-bag rice, paper clips, ramen noodles. Maybe some ice cream if there was money left over. America’s Choice vanilla, eaten straight from the carton. It wouldn’t be bad. With an uncomfortable pop, he pulled out of her and lay beside her, breathing hard. It was 11.52pm. She wondered if the Shop’n’Save would even be open. 

You make the magic inside your head.


34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE 

ISSN 1938-9329


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Published by

Martin Chipperfield

editorial@34thParallel.net


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