Tint Journal writers’ locales:

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Issue Spring '26

"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 
"Elementals drawing" by Audrey Holmes

Short Story

Deda and Baba Forever. A Diptych.

by Mark Budman

One part of this story, “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Farm,” was originally published in a slightly different version in Moon City Review. I. A ...read the full piece 
"Yellow Stars on a Black Floor" by Tania Serket

Short Story

The Other Side

by Somrwita Guha

I knew something was wrong the moment I saw the shoes. It wasn’t the usual neat line of sandals, school shoes, and the battered floaters my uncles ...read the full piece 
"Melancholy" by Kateryna Bortsova

Essay

Algorithmic Womanhood

by Paulina Jarantewicz

I don’t remember when I stopped looking at my body and started auditing it. It happens at 6 a. m. now, still in bed, before my eyes have fully opened. ...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 
"Scream" by Doris Ash

Poetry

Daughter of Bays and Hills

by Penny Wei

In my hometown, God takes the shape of a cleaver.So the first time I lied was to a rooster. I promised not to watch but its blood arced thin and ...read the full piece 
"Merge" by Rachel Coyne

Poetry

crying with an apple in my hand

by Aida-Flavia Ciucaș

apple skin.tears driedbefore the bite. seeds sleep.no roots.no rain. an orchardof silencein my palm. ...read the full piece