Tint Journal writers’ locales:

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Issue Fall '26

"A Known Somewhere" by Mahmoud El Mardi

Short Story

The Love of Cobs

by Zuzana Minstrel

The willow tree loomed over the spot I chose for nesting. I built it, straw by straw, despite having no one to share it with. At least not yet. Maybe ...read the full piece 
"Show Me Your Eyes Let Me Read Your Soul" by Tuana Burçak Kahraman

Flash Fiction

The Party

by Elodie A. Roy

Every year before Christmas, Bill has a party. He invites the lonely hearts, the widowers and the dreamers of Moston. The haunted people he meets at ...read the full piece 
"Float II" by TJ Norris

Flash Fiction

Slack Water

by Mileva Anastasiadou

My friend texts before she gets on the plane and says, how exciting, because she’s flying to see the love of her life, and I’m happy for her, but also ...read the full piece 
"Pulse" by Tetiana Yatsechko-Blazhenko

Essay

Dave & Dave

by Abhiram Kuchibhotla

Picture, if you will, a couple of acres of woodland. A large swathe of bright chartreuse, a gently sloping bowl dotted with copses of hawthorn and oak ...read the full piece 
"I'm Flying Through the Daytime City in the Clouds" by Nasta Martyn

Flash Nonfiction

The Ballet Dancer

by Andie Z Chen

One of my aunties — her child had died of cerebrovascular disease. When her son was sick, blood kept coming out of his nose, and she would hold a ...read the full piece 
"Footsteps" by Petra Fuks

Flash Nonfiction

Barefoot

by Pranjali Kureel

Wandering through the foothills of the Himalayas the other day, I saw you. Not that I was looking for you here out of all the places, but then, there ...read the full piece 
"Self Portrait" by Stasia Fisher

Poetry

bodhidharma

by Ajay Kumar

the color of the room is a shade of bluecalled sleep. i’m waiting beside youlike an oversoaked shirt losing color. the doctor’s rounds lynchpin the ...read the full piece 
"Water Droplet" by Yuliia Khovbosha

Poetry

Domestic Scene with Victorian Ruins & a Daughter Listening to Matilda at 2 a.m.

by Paola Lee

Jane Austen, who understood that women could disappear elegantly without ever leaving the room, never wrote mothers like mine. At 2:17 a.m., Harry ...read the full piece