Tint Journal writers’ locales:

(click on the colored countries to learn more)

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 
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 
"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 
"Generations" by Mimi Kunz

Essay

A Bridge Between

by D.G. Rosales

We were halfway through assembling the dresser for the baby's room when we gave up. The kind of giving up that happens in late pregnancy when ...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 
"Learning to Live off the Land" by Ann Keeling

Poetry

To Hold the Falling Light

by Melissa Luz

here —i try to hold what won’t stay and my fingersbecome cracked riverbedswhere things meant to be water refuse to settle since the first timei saw ...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