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Ellie Gordon is a nonbinary trans writer from Washington State. Their work has been published with Rejection Letters, Complete Sentence, Daily Drunk Mag, Wondrous Real Magazine, Jellyfish Review, and more. They've been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.
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Nonfiction: What I Got From The First Good Night's Sleep In Years -- Complete Sentence
...the assured thunder of a Chrysler 426 Hemi drumming through his hood, the elastic hole at the bottom of the rear passenger side door, my seat a velvet pouch wedged between the upholstery and child lock, my head rested against the window warmed by July’s sun, the hum and rhythm of rigid pavement rumbling up from the grooves of new tires through my feet to the back of my neck, peace...
Fiction: A New Phase -- Ligeia Magazine
Loren, a werewolf, was in no headspace to play “Werewolf” during game night, but the charm of Armand’s excitement persuaded him to participate.
The rules were simple: each night/round, the werewolf picks somebody from the village to kill, and in the morning the surviving population votes on a player to eliminate, in hopes of defeating the werewolf. Armand dealt a role card to each player. Loren turned his card over, keeping it close to his chest.
Fiction: Negative Space -- Jellyfish Review
As the ghost, Sarah used the family’s old alphabet fridge magnets to spell things she missed: SOUP, ROMCOMS, Norah Jones’s song SUNRISE and how that album traveled with her and Jory across several states for winter orientation at the University of Montana, MOMS SINGING.
Jory – who could see Sarah, who spent evenings in the bathroom speaking through a froth of toothpaste and spit about his therapy sessions, his progress in fundraising a scholarship named after her, and the girl he was crushing on – tried to explain Sarah’s presence to Mom. After several months, Mom decided she’d had enough. “We’re both grieving,” she said, “but this game of yours isn’t helping.”
Fiction: The Stone Is a Mirror Which Works Poorly -- The Wondrous Real Magazine
On July afternoons, Medusa sat by the living room window, accompanied by her oldest child. If she closed her eyes, she could remember how quietly Grady slept in her arms for the first time home from the hospital, or how his curious fingers teased the serpents who seemed charmed by the music of a toddler’s high, throaty laugh.
Instead, she focused on her youngest’s Instagram profile.
Solomon, who ran away two months ago for California and never updated his address, received an engraved plaque in the mail for winning first prize in the National Geographic youth photography contest. Included in the delivery was a complimentary copy of the issue in which his interview appeared. The article had published where to find more of his work.
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