Far from this Howling Corner

By Charmaine Wilkerson
It took the gazebo, first, the one on the beach where we used to picnic, the one where we’d made our baby on a crickety night.

When Maisie Draws a House

By Mel George
Whenever Maisie draws a house, it’s a square, pointy-roofed affair with four neat windows and a smoking chimney.

After the Whipping

By Bill King
A boy stands knee-deep on heron-thin legs, stung skin numbing now, as stars prick creek water sliding slow, slow beneath him.

After a Heartless Winter

By Juliana Gray
In May I tilled the garden, so swept up in the work that I churned beyond the boundaries of Grandma’s old plot into rocky soil.

Photo Story: Goat Yoga

By Lisa Fairman
We take revenge during goat-yoga class. A herd of ladies arrive each Saturday, and Friday night we gorge ourselves like horses before a race.

Instructions for Cleaning a Mirror

By Sarah Freligh
I have my secrets. I take my time, stare at my face until I’m a stranger, a she who is not me. A she who helps herself to whatever will buff the sharp edges of the world.

Palm Funeral

By Adam Schuitema
The tallest palm on the atoll lost its fronds long before falling. King tides and storm surges had breached the walls, poisoned it with salt.

The Quiet Sadism of the Powerless

By Heather Bourbeau
She woke to news of another stalemate, more children dying on the border, mounting humanitarian crises overseas, and a small mass in her breast.

Photo Story: The Trumpeter’s Caress

By Natalie Wu
She waits in the corner, haughty and lacquered. I always sit close, inhaling her delicate scent of beeswax polish.

Catching Rose Baxter in Room 9

By Sabrina Hicks
She slid through her memories, trying to capture one, fireflies filling summer near a croaking pond...

Cleansed

By Gary Duncan
She says don’t look in the bedside cupboard, so I look. There’s a Bible, a spare pillow and a small pile of toenail clippings.

Photo Story: Hydroponic Veggie

By Tamara Stanley
It is mostly summer now. Above me there are skyscrapers, McMansions, slums...

Ghost Texts

By Esther Gulli
Before work, sitting in her crimson battered minivan, she reads his words again. Milk. Bananas. That bread I like.

Man of Sorrows

By Kim Addonizio
Not enough to get crucified. You’ve got to be covered with red spots like an anti-vaxxer’s kid’s measles. Blood everywhere.

Mysteries of Sex

By Kim Addonizio
Things were going well, so I risked slipping my hand down my pants.  I seemed into it, so I continued on.

Plans

By Kim Addonizio
It’s hard to get together with his friends because they all like to hibernate. Everyone mostly prefers staying home, so when they make plans with him they often cancel, last-minute.

My Sister’s House

By Mary Grimm
I didn’t want to see the rooms half empty, each dish packed, each rug rolled up.

How My Mother Lost Her Voice and Gave Me Mine

By Nancy Ludmerer
In 1931, my mother Helen was 9. A daredevil, she challenged boys at their games, ignored their hair pulling, their scrunchy faces.

Ain’t Gonna Stick

By Lauren Kosa
By the time I met him, in my thirties, my expectations were properly tempered.

Because Some Doors Never Open

By Tommy Dean
There’s something about a baby-gate left unhinged. The way it lists to the right like a barn door left open for a pregnant stray cat.