Tint Journal writers’ locales:

(click on the colored countries to learn more)

Issue Spring '26

"Making plan" by Muyang Li

Flash Fiction

Papanca

by Pamela Smith

It’s two in the morning, and she’s in the bathroom, bleach coats the floor, thick, suffocating.It spreads like a blanket no one ever asked for.The ...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 
"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 
"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 
"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 
"Moon Jar" by Vanesa Erjavec

Flash Nonfiction

Moon Jar

by Bora Hah

1. For days, I couldn’t write anything. Tired, I was so tired — even in my dreams. 2. That afternoon, I went to see a moon jar. I love moon jars. ...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 
"Cymbals after a Caesura" by Devon Balwit

Poetry

The Perfumers

by Oindrila Ghosal

The perfumers ply acrossThe crackedRugged promenadesIn silenceLike rows of ants.Like molten honeyThe overhead sunDrips down theirBare backs —Insulated ...read the full piece