Call for Papers: Rebel Time

Alice RT

©KDP

The sweet taste of honey distracted Alice for a minute. She let it pass with her eyes closed. When she opened them again, she took notice of the tea party that had, seemingly, emerged out of thin air. To her left, the Red Queen raised her glass to her. Simultaneously, the dishes mimicked animals with forks for legs, napkins for wings, plates as torsos, cups for heads – or a similar variation of it.

Mockingly, the Red Queen bawled, “To your health, Queen Alice! Let this be your kingdom!” And amidst laughter from the other uncanny beings, she emptied her glass. Lost in the puzzling scene, Alice lacked any emotional response. Tardily, the confusion transformed into a furore. Her hands found their way to the golden tablecloth and tore it off, sending all the dishes flying to the floor. As the plates broke and the cutlery chimed, Alice announced,

„Rebels at Heart
Remain vociferous with Clubs
Are buried in diamonds
Or beaten with Spades!

The Rebel Time is upon us!”

 

Why nICHt? Rebel Time – Winter 2017/2018.
Send your prose, poetry, short drama and fragments to whynicht@univie.ac.at
Deadline: October 27th ’17
Submit your writings, otherwise off with your head!

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Call for Submissions: Golden Time

Alice was strolling around the Gothic castle as she reached a beautiful massive door, which she pushed, but it seemed locked. “At least this can’t be the Bluebeard’s chamber, I see no keyhole’, thought Alice musingly fingering the dark golden surface. Suddenly her fingertips sparked and a heavy door leaf moved…

Alice stepped in and halted dazzled by the luminescence flowing from the walls of the colossal hall. Its panels were amber and golden…

 

Why nICHt? Golden Time – Summer 2017.
Send your prose, poetry, short drama and fragments to whynicht@univie.ac.at
Deadline: 27 April ’17
Submit your writings, otherwise off with your head!

 

Call for Submissions: Gothic Time

The stairway was exactly where the scroll you found in the university’s library said it would be. Down you go, step by step. The damp walls reflect the fire of your torch as you are descending deeper into the confines of the earth. White, translucent salamanders scuttle off as you find a door at the bottom of the stairwell. With a racing heart you push it open. In the hall behind it there is a little blonde girl with books under her arm. Or rather her ghost, transparent, hovering over the stone floor. She mutters something and you draw nearer to make out the words:

„Why nICHt? Gothic Time – Winter 2016.

Send your gothic-themed prose, poetry, short drama and fragments to whynicht@univie.ac.at.

Up to four A4 pages, not more. German, English and French are accepted. Visit our submission guidelines if you dare.

Now, submit your writings, otherwise off with your head…”

And the door behind you slams shut…