thwack

thwack

WE LAUGH by MaxieJane Frazier

MaxieJane Frazier WE LAUGH After Sarah Freligh When we’re twenty, we laugh and laugh. For the men surrounding us as if we’re gold at the end of a rainbow. For the slurred compliments and bestial breath. From the corner booth:…

BAD LOVE JR. by Mike Itaya

Mike Itaya BAD LOVE JR. It was unseasonable noon in August, and I already missed the tangy summer where everything grew like weeds and everyone who was anyone got twitchy pants. Up at Ezekiel Remedial School, I was a no-show…

Captain Jonah by Finley Foster

Finley K Foster CAPTAIN JONAH I miss the set up and the punchline, but all around the table people are laughing. I can’t force a laugh, not a believable one, so I throw on a face, one that says “gotta…

FAIRY SHRIMP by Richard Parisio

Richard Parisio FAIRY SHRIMP In my first year of teaching ………………………I led my seventh graders to the woods ………..to study vernal pools. Study? No—to stare ………………………………….astonished at what we found: plump transparent one inch freshwater shrimp ………………………………………………sidestroked across a black…

THREE MICROFICTIONS by Kathryn Silver-Hajo

Kathryn Silver-Hajo THREE MICROFICTIONS The Divide I hadn’t spoken with Grandma since she went into assisted living. I missed visiting her lemon-and-love-infused apartment at holidays, our weekly calls. Now we chatted about my MFA program, the Haitian nurse who snuck…

ANGELA by Federico Escobar

Federico Escobar ANGELA He got to the bus stop trailed by wet footsteps that merged with the night. His Converse shoes squished as he walked, and his drenched denim jacket clung to a watery button-down with its belly buttons missing.…

2024 Creative Nonfiction Contest

ANNOUNCING Cleaver’s 2024 Short Creative Nonfiction Contest Creative nonfiction is a genre of exploration into ourselves, our society, and our world. We invite short works that explore life in its dualities: memory and imagination, self and society, perfection in flaws,…

THREE FLASH PIECES by Matthew Guenette

Matthew Guenette THREE FLASH PIECES Pet Peeve A jackhammer hammers somewhere in the school and your armpits sweat through your shirt. You don’t know what you’re doing, and the class knows that you know they know, but you can’t tell…

ANNIVERSARY POEM II by Matt Thomas

Matt Thomas ANNIVERSARY POEM II Remember the tracked snow it was last to melt and so was like a suture in the flattened grass, Robins feeding impression to impression hashes as if marking time passed from The Incident that dried…

TWO MICROS by Kelli Short Borges

Kelli Short Borges TWO MICROS Manning Up It was Jack’s birthday and there we were—me, Jack, and Thom, the Three Musketeers, wrestling in the pool while Dad grilled a T-bone, Jack’s favorite, he said (we knew it was really Dad’s,…

THE LOVE by Monique Danielle

Monique Danielle THE LOVE Robin and I arrive at the restaurant at the same time. Today is her thirty-second birthday and she’s chosen The Love, one of her late father’s favorites and the last restaurant we’d eaten at together. She…

RECIPE FOR VIABLE ZYGOTES by Beth Broome

Beth Broome RECIPE FOR VIABLE ZYGOTES Start out with a blood test. Inject ten units of leuprolide acetate. Repeat process for approximately seven to thirteen days. Return to office for blood test. Decrease leuprolide acetate to five units. Avoid alcohol.…

TRANSPORTED by Sue Mell

Sue Mell TRANSPORTED In my teens, in the early 70s, I often took a Saturday morning train from Grand Central to visit a camp friend at her parents’ enormous house, which you could see from the Hartsdale station. Her father…

FOUR MICROFICTIONS by Jeff Friedman

Jeff Friedman FOUR MICROFICTIONS Card Trick Even though it was warm in the house, Callie covered herself to the neck with the afghan and lay down on the couch. Her red and green wool socks pushed out into the open.…

SONG OF THE REDWOODS by David Waters

David Waters SONG OF THE REDWOODS June Francis fills a bag with perishables from the fridge: milk for his lattes, oat milk for Lucy’s, salad ingredients, a chicken, leftovers, and random stuff, like the twenty-three-ounce bottle of Frank’s Red Hot…

MOM AND THE OTTERS by Meg Pokrass

Meg Pokrass MOM AND THE OTTERS There was the time Dad scooted home with a bunch of supermarket flowers, handed Mom what he had to offer, flashed us his new beard, and we chanted Beard! Beard! Beard! like we were…

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