wind-up mice wants to publish distinct voices, unforgettable imagery, your experiments. They love blending forms until they are unrecognizable. They seek the intimate, the mystical within mundanity. Give them your thoughts on the evening train. Your daydreams, lying half-awake on a sunbeam. Give them the surreal—twisting the commonplace into a haunting haziness. The ephemeral. Sunday afternoons in the kitchen, listening to the rain tap on your window.