THE WORMWOOD
COLLECTIVE

“O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In moral paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!”

— William Shakespeare —

 

Forced Expiration
a short story by Shanna Germain

“I rub the soap over his hips. His penis is still flaccid and tiny. Still gray. Gray penis, gray eyes, gray matter—the last three parts of him to come back to life.”

Poetics
by Anna Evans

“The serpent opened me; it was all
over very quickly, though the wound
bleeds again each month. I don't know
anything about an apple.”

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