It’s going from rainy grey to dull dark grey outside. I grab the bag of dates I’m eating way to many of, push open the Mustang’s door so I can hide the sugar source in the depths of the trunk. Then I make a beeline for the double sliding glass doors of the library.

Once I’m inside misty droplets dripping from my curly grey/blonde hair fall around me at the computer I’ve logged i to. I quickly get logged in and then submerge myself in the magazine I’m editing. We have some new submissions and I’m very excited about several of them.

One submission comes from a guy who wrote a poem about being in Vietnam. My uncle was there and he would never say a word about what he experienced. His eyes would narrow and go vacant at the hint of it.

Another submission is a phenomenological perspective of the way cult leaders sometimes submerge their followers in unspeakable acts.

There are more for me to read from this recent batch. The clock’s run out on the computer. I have to trust my gut, be decisive. The external construct obliterates second guessing. Primal instincts kick in. I feel alive and centered in a clarity that feels close to the bone. The technological enforcer enlists a limit on time that reminds me of the way Lars von Trier had all those self imposed rules for his films while in the Dogma phase.

The call on Duotrope is titled, Dreams and Demons and they announced it on X; they’ve been so helpful to the journal and magazine. You can support them and LEJ if you’re on X by liking their post for our call. And, of course, submit your work if you are drawn to Dreams and Demons. I’ll be announcing the publication dates for the new work in the LE newsletter.