
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Based on Podcast App listening data
The soldiers start rounding up us factory girls just before sunrise. | © 2024 by Thomas Ha. Narrated by Susan Hanfield and Stefan Rudnicki.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
This poem sprang from its title, a product of old-school random-generator email spam. | © 2024 by Sonya Taaffe. Narrated by Justine Eyre.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Yesterday upon the stair, I met a man who wasn’t there . . . | © 2024 by Ally Wilkes. Narrated by Justine Eyre.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
At the tiny abbey in the province of Tasselt—the only abbey in the region with both an abbot and his monks and a dozen nuns as well (a temporary matter that had somehow become permanent)—the abbot, whose skin had gotten paler even as the veins beneath it had become more pronounced, and who preferred darkness to light of any kind, had taken over the West section of the abbey, with its many, darker rooms. | © 2024 by Bruce McAllister. Narrated by Stefan Rudnicki.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
If you haven’t seen it yet, you will. | © 2024 by Manish Melwani. Read by Stefan Rudnicki.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
This poem began as a letter from a grandmother to her grandchild. It warns of uncontrollable wickedness and gifts them wisdom for how to survive despite it. | © 2024 by Beatrice Winifred Iker. Narrated by Janina Edwards.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
I first saw them one evening in May. I couldn’t tell what they were: small, like kids, like me, but they rustled, raffia fronds for skin. | © 2024 by Victor Forna. Narrated by Mirron Willis.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
The question is, who dies at the end of this story? | © 2024 by Carlie St. George. Narrated by Alison Belle Bews.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
There is something uniquely squalid and sad about estate sales. To traipse through a cluttered house, one of a teeming crowd here to bear witness to the end of a life and all that it held, not to pay respect but instead to lunge for whatever goodies you can find. | © 202 Daniel David Froid. Narrated by Ruth Wallman.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
The opening line is my riff on Bach’s chorale prelude “Come, Sweet Death,” one of his most profound. | © 2024 by John R. Turner. Narrated by Stefan Rudnicki.
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
From the publisher's feed
Ranked by our users in the last 21 days

13,006 Listeners

1,306 Listeners

3,451 Listeners

588 Listeners

531 Listeners

304 Listeners

3,211 Listeners

2,927 Listeners

159 Listeners

185 Listeners

653 Listeners

5,364 Listeners

3,766 Listeners

1,707 Listeners

279 Listeners

314 Listeners

1,349 Listeners

25 Listeners

400 Listeners

1,244 Listeners

525 Listeners

405 Listeners

538 Listeners

173 Listeners

645 Listeners

13 Listeners

668 Listeners

336 Listeners

21 Listeners

45 Listeners

528 Listeners

285 Listeners

48 Listeners

774 Listeners

171 Listeners