Tina Vorreyer is a graduate of Lawrence University in Appleton, Wisconsin, where she received her BA in Theatre Arts and minored in Creative Writing. She has been published in three anthologies titled, “Wisconsin’s Best Emerging Poets”, “Illinois’ Best Emerging Poets”, and “America’s Emerging Poets 2018”.

Tia Cowger is a graduate of Eastern Illinois University. A poet at heart, her work has been published in Eastern’s literary journal The Vehicle, Bloodpuddles, Gone Lawn, and more.

Tim Downie describes himself as an actor, poet, and social activist. Although he has always written poetry, his main work has been writing for the theatre. His first play, The Dead Moon was commissioned and staged at the Aldeburgh Festival in the summer of 2008 (the first non-operatic play ever to be performed there.) As a playwright, his work has been performed at the Soho Theatre, Southwark Playhouse, The Kings Head and as part of the Offcut and London Bridge Festivals. In 2013 The Curse of Elizabeth Faulkner debuted at the Edinburgh fringe, which later transferred to London’s West End.

Katie Collazo lives in Seattle Washington where she moved, after twenty years of small town living in Oklahoma, with enough money for one months rent, four suitcases full of Stephen King books, and a suit of armor. (It’s aluminum). That was six years ago; and although she still has the suit of armor, she also has more Stephen King books, a husband, and three cats. She thinks the move worked out well. She recently got her associates degree in art and currently works at a small publishing company which allows her to keep her green hair and inspires her every day.

Babitha Marina Justin is from Kerala, South India and a Pushcart prize nominee, 2018. Her poems have appeared in Eclectica , Esthetic Apostle, The Paragon Press, as well as many other journals. Her first collection of poetry, Of Fireflies, Guns and the Hills, was published by the Writers Workshop in 2015. She is also waiting to debut as a novelist with ‘Maria’s Swamp: The Bigness of Small Lies’.

Welcome to the inaugural issue of Black Works. It has been a longer road getting here than it looked like when we first started down this path. But it has been fun and we got to read a lot of good and some scary stories along the way.

We send our thanks to Berne Bush for his webmastery and invaluable assistance navigating the pitfalls within this electronic realm. Also, thanks to Michael Blain-Rozgay for his tireless eyes in putting all this together.

Our goal is to put out another edition every three months (along with Underwood, Rue Scribe, and True Chili). Our formats may change as we learn new techniques but we will always be looking for finely crafted and a little bit dark storytelling.

As always, we hope you enjoy the stories here as much as we did when we read them.

Native New Yorker LindaAnn LoSchiavo has had short fiction recently appear in Flatbush Review, The Indian River Review, The Moon Magazine, 101Fiction, Metamorphose, The Round-Up Zine, along with several anthologies.

A Christmas Presence

The truth was I didn’t really need a book that night. My Christmas shopping was finished. Earlier I had built a cozy fire and I could have stayed home, trimming the tree, baking gingerbread cookies, maybe phoning far-away friends or answering letters.

A brittle box of holly trimmed notepaper had been cloistered away, pitched in with some outdoor lighting. The year Jim died, I didn’t want to decorate our front windows, then I failed to revive our custom. Funny how one long-held tradition or belief can evaporate altogether.

With degrees in physics and chemistry, Andy Betz has tutored and taught in excess of 30 years. His novel, short stories, and poems are works still defining his style. He lives in 1974, has been married for 26 years, and collects occupations (the current tally is 95).

I Knew Her as Francine

Personal Journal: July 15, 1891

I knew her as Francine.

In reality, I didn’t actually know her; I only knew of her.  But, what I knew was everything there was to know.

Francine McCallister, aka Francine Jonesburg, aka Francine Potter, aka Janice Potter, aka Janice Smithson was a woman as fluid as a cloud.  She moved unencumbered from one point in her life to the next, regretting nothing, taking nothing with her, leaving nothing but memories if others even bothered to remember.  Francine wasn’t a ghost, but she was as difficult to track as one.  I should know.  My insurance company hired me to do just that.  I work on a 5% commission of what I save them in insurance fraud.  Francine was an expert in insurance fraud.  I was the wizard in insurance fraud investigation.

J.J. Fletcher is an English teacher, writer, and dog rescuer. “Anomalies” is part of a short story collection that re-imagines the childhood of Dr. H.H. Holmes–Chicago’s (allegedly) first serial killer. Fletcher is currently at work on a crime novel, The Devil Inside Me, in which a descendant of Holmes resurrects his duplicitous and murderous legacy in the Windy City. Learn more at www.jjfletcherbooks.com.

Anomalies

Articulated. That’s what Dr. White called the brand new skeleton that moved joint by joint and was now hanging prominently in his private office. Henry Webster’s eyes were wide as he took in the skeleton, reaching out to stroke the ulna, to flex the phalanges. Most doctors didn’t have a skeleton, but then most doctors didn’t have their own apothecary shop or office. Dr. White wasn’t most doctors, and that’s why Henry liked him so.

     Originally hanging in the front window, Dr. White moved the skeleton to his examination room under intense community pressure. The good people of Gilmanton, New Hampshire, were fervent in their belief that the dead should be buried as soon as possible and most certainly not desecrated, and that this monstrosity was simply not for the eyes of God-fearing people. Interested less in educating the masses and more in maximizing his profits with best-sellers like “Dr. White’s Soothing Syrup for Babies and Toddlers, pat. pend. 1873,” the doctor acquiesced to his paying public.

Leoson teaches composition and psychology courses at the college level in Cleveland, Ohio. She loves to write with her dogs at her feet and somehow survives on decaf coffee and protein bars. She holds an M.A. in English & Writing from Western New Mexico University and an M.S. in Psychology from Walden University. Her writing has been featured in the Twisted Vine Literary Journal, TWJ Magazine, The Write Launch, GNU Journal, The Gyara Journal, and on NPR’s “This I Believe” series. You can learn more at www.maryleoson.com

Roots in the Cove: A Modern Fairy Tale

Sunday Morning

James woke on the cabin floor. The smell of pine filled his nose and an ache like a dagger split his frontal lobe. As the world came back into focus and memory flooded over him, he sat up quickly. Was he alone? Was the creature gone?

He leapt to his feet, staggered, caught himself on a kitchen chair. He’d either drunken himself insane or last night was real. He glanced around, gingerly touched his forehead. It was sticky, red when he pulled his hand away. He moved toward the back door that stood ajar, afraid of what he might find. This wasn’t how this weekend was supposed to go.