"A literary journal that publishes work related to themes such as (but not limited to) diaspora, immigration, displacement, borders, and decolonization."
Vibe: Send us your best but less intimidating
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3-5 months
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United States
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Max words: 3000Multiple flash fictions or nonfictions are allowed if their total word count is under 3,000 words.


Max words: 3000Multiple flash fictions or nonfictions are allowed if their total word count is under 3,000 words.


Max pieces: 5


We currently list only main editors, more will be added later!
If you're an editor, you can edit your masthead in our admin panel :)

Vika Mujumdar


s.g. maldonado-vélez

Poetry Editor

Arron Luo

CNF Editor


'We Are All Born In Water' by Lu-Hai Liang

It is a windy night in July and you wade into the water. The year is 1988. The sea chops against itself and the sky holds a new moon. It’s a clandestine situation, a sly beginning, like many escapes, but the crescent moon is a consolation. You are not alone. Beside you is your brother, younger than you and more agile, and the two of you get ready for the swim, undressing, at the water’s edge. Into a plastic bag you’ve stashed clothes, letters, and the document that details your prison sentence. Around the bag you’ve lashed bicycle inner tubes which you’d bought earlier in the day in town. This will be your floatation aid, your makeshift raft to freedom. You two start wading into the sea, close to each other in the darkness.
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'Dream Daughter at the California Motel' by Malvika Jolly

You remind us that the departed are never forgotten, the forgotten never long gone, not for very long anyway. All returns to us at mealtimes. She visits the plum tree planted by the hand of her great-grandmother, reads her own name etched in brass on the back of a wedding plate loaned across a great divide, stretches a linen sheet across the golden bed, damp, washes her long hairs under the desert sun in a solution of iron and indigo seeds, hangs her bathing suits to bleach on the fishing line, loads the car with firewood and freshwater, brews hot coffee on the road in a percolator, infused with ginger root, summer rosemary,
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'Home: A Kaleidoscopic Study' by Yamilette Vizcaíno Rivera

What came with my inheritance: a mat on the dusty ground outside a blue tent that got too hot, leaving me splayed on my back, observing the southern hemisphere stars, thinking about how I’ve googled this place and found it listed as one of the top 10 poorest places in the world. I’ve seen it left off of map after map, but I didn’t see any mention of the stars, of what it’s like to breathe while you behold them. A slick mud balance beam between rice paddies that I could only traverse with my sandals off, one hanging from the fingers of each arm spread wide, as the green green sea of blades rushes for what looked like miles ahead of me to reach the mountain ahead, which of course, in turn, did its best to reach the electric blue of the sky.
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