Timestruck
By Myna ChangThere’s a split second, after the ignition catches and the radio blasts out a loud loud song from high school, when time strikes...
The Hill
By Hannah MarshallI never learned to flatter, to dove like a wisp of white grace, instead challenging boys to footraces and tackling them into grass stains...
Photo Story: Now, We’ll Hold Her Forever
By Lauren KardosI cup you in my palm, brushing your curls with my thumbnail. The ringlets, once soda-can width, now spiral like tiny quinoa germs.
Photo Story: On Autoimmune Disease
By Lauren VoeltzI read a quote that an overweight woman’s shirt said Guess, and Arnold Schwartzenegger answered, thyroid problem and I think of this when I pop Levothyroxine each morning...
My Lithuanian Holocaust Survivor Grandmother—
By Tamara MCBEFORE: Hot water burbled in samovars. You strolled cobblestone streets, clicking your heels. DURING: You sipped grass soup.
Freckle Inventory
By Anslee WolfeFreckles scatter across his face, neck, arms. They hide beneath clothing. A large one dots his ear. Five pepper his cheek.
When your son, who hates everything, who even hates playing sports,
By Amy R. Martin... asks to play Ultimate Frisbee, you drive him—begrudgingly—to practice. The field is green, squelchy from morning rain. The sky like a Dutch cloud painting.
Photo Story: The Red Shoes
By Karen CrawfordNone of the passengers notice his glare. The lock in his gait, the crush of shoulders, hemming you in.
Coffee Drinks
By Cynthia BelmontoTwenty-two, I was with my first lover, not college-girl exploring but the real deal.
Book Review: The House of Grana Padano
By Celia BlandIn The House of Grana Padano, the collaboration between Meg Pokrass and Jeff Friedman blends rhythms and styles seamlessly. These two masters of the microfiction form generate a dialectic that plays within the rigorous requirements of their chosen genre.
Photo Story: The Other Side
By India KeaShe arrived with clenched fists, wide eyes, and strong lungs. During the cleaning, the elders caught her stretching her neck, peering into the darkness of a near past.
Unused Magic
By Maureen McElyThere are wishes in my hair, constellations of fluff from dandelion ghosts my daughter blows in my direction.
Settling Into The Rest Home for Ragged Girls
By Anika CarpenterThe island’s breakers rattle windows. Filthy storm clouds snigger, ‘“the jetty is as brittle as your bones.”
I Wish I Could Tell My Dead Husband
By Jamy BondThat I stole his Percocet stash and then helped him look for it. That I found his suicide note tucked inside his dog-eared copy of Infinite Jest.
