Tint Journal writers’ locales:

(click on the colored countries to learn more)

Issue Spring '26

Untitled by Jack Bordnick

Short Story

Promise Me Always

by Jayden Bird

Afghanistan, 2004 Nausea rolled through my empty stomach, the damp air heavy with the stench of urine and feces. Six weeks we’d been in this hell. Six ...read the full piece 
"Cocoon" by Johannes Christopher Gerard

Short Story

Proof of Magic

by Jowita Bydlowska

Inside me there is a flattened, pear-shaped organ called a pancreas, and a collection of other slick, cooperating parts I barely think about unless ...read the full piece 
"Place to Hide" by Anna Major

Short Story

Dust

by Olga Ruchina

I am an archive of suffering. I’m 25 years old. Ancient, by our standards. Most of us live a week or two, maybe a few months if they’re lucky enough ...read the full piece 
"Multiethnicity" by Viviana De Cecco

Flash Nonfiction

Chungking Express

by Cookie Noh

Reading English texts is taxing. Like a bricklayer, I have built understanding block by block with patience. However, the rare vocabulary items, ...read the full piece 
"A Year in Tokyo" by Monika Gustevičiūtė

Essay

A Year in Tokyo

by Jee Ann Marie E. Guibone

The first thing you notice in Tokyo is a siren going off every night. You’ve booked a business hotel in a suburb of Nishi-Shinjuku. It’s a stone’s ...read the full piece 
"Never Had Much Choice In It" by Benjamin Malay

Essay

The Bitter Smell of Sagebrush

by Aizhan Yesbolatova

When we approached the village, I didn’t recognize the house. It felt strange because, in my memory, it stood there so vividly; yet, when the driver ...read the full piece 
"Detour Moon" by Robin Young

Poetry

Alba

by Malavika M Nair

Six o’ clock and the sun brought a quintet of silent crawlers to the concrete, five glass snails on a line, lost in plans of their morning walk: in ...read the full piece 
"Barock" by Martin Swoboda

Poetry

X-humation

by Athena Melliar

A docupoem (Sestina) Shall we walk? I’ll be your guide here, in the most chthonian rooms, stanze of dei morti — dead you’ll ever be: Follow me through ...read the full piece