On the other side of the arctic entry door, Julia stood, softly knocking. Surprised, Marla opened the door to see a young woman crying
Fiction
The Keeping Room is an online magazine for all women writers, poets, and artists.
We are looking to publish your short stories, essays, free writing, poetry, and photo essays that touch on topics related to Women’s Wisdom, Lessons Learned, Self-care, Bodies, Relationships, and Community.
Writers selected for publication will be paid $25
Hump Day by Juliana Delany
The sliding glass door to the kitchen won’t budge. It does that sometimes, locking up behind you like an anxious grandmother.
Performance by Carolyn McGrath
The older nurse came in, the nice one with reddish hair in short curls and glasses on a chain around her neck. The name tag on her petal pink uniform read “Ruby” and a hint of brogue enriched her speech.
Weight by Ann Cwiklinski
She is eight months pregnant with her third child, and huge. Her heaviness feels absurd at this point—Mother Nature taking a joke way too far.
Pas de Deux by Samantha Belleman
The weight always comes before my dream ends, pulling me out just enough to force my eyes open. The room is still, but I feel a shifting on top of me. I strain my fingers trying to move them. Nothing. I try to swallow but can’t.
SELF-CARE FOR WILDFLOWERS by Amy Spies
Jax wakes to a burning scent. Her eyes stay sealed. No emergency, she realizes, simply the toaster. However, no one in this household eats broiled bread, except her …
WHAT THEY CAN’T SEE by Jen Knox
Mom wears orange and smiles at people who thank her, smiles at people who yell at her, and smiles at the man who will soon rob her. Everyone near Mom wears yellow or orange and has matching ball caps striped with white, which makes them visible to my wolves.
Screen Door by Mary Lewis
Annie bit into the packet of ketchup and squeezed it out over her tater tots. It wasn’t enough so she canined her way into another one.
PETIT BATTEMENT by Mandy Lange
Molly’s pas de chat is born of force, timing, and intensity. A blink of respite at the pinnacle of the leap, when chaos slips into calm. A gentle return to plywood. She rotates her heel, chafing against her too-small slipper. Works her turn from the back leg.
Beyond Me by Sidney Logan Echevarria
I was not allowed to answer the telephone. Unless, of course, I’d been told to, or, in the very off chance no one was...
Guai Girl By Anyu Ching
I often find myself thinking about the first time. The sound and spring of it. How the unconscious, bite-sized action...
The Lay of Our Land by Angela Belcher Epps
I’m finally hitting my stride after last semester’s rocky start. It was a maddening experience because everything...
I Was Supposed to Stay Out When the Bedroom Door Was Closed by Holly Fine
Cigarette burn holes in my cardigan meant Mom kept me close. I counted them in her comforter, seared edges lined up...
When The Mermaids Came by Holly Barratt
It was early Valentine’s Day morning when the first one washed up dead near Bridgend. By 10am there was a crowd around...