Tom SokolowskiSUNK BY MINES Driving to Cascades Park, I pass The Florida Bar and the Smokey Hollow Commemoration and Community Garden where, on a bench facing Franklin Boulevard, Lonely Man, with a knapsack beside him, is always grinding rotten kumquats…
Matthew BurrellFIVE SECONDS J.D. stood up without his grenade pin. We were heading toward the Guadalupe range after a live fire exercise in White Sands Training Grounds, otherwise known as the ‘Sand Box’, during a hot afternoon in July 1998…
Leonard KressCOLLOQUY OF YOUNG MOTHERS ON VENANGO STREET By one a.m. they hoard the crossroad stoops, spotlit by squealing cars and vans, each beam gilding an icon nimbus in mounting loops of hair. They gaze impassive at the stream of…
Emily SteinbergGLASS HOUSE A Visual Narrative Emily Steinberg is a multi-disciplinary artist with a focus on painting and visual narrative. Her work has been published by The New Yorker and included in several anthologies. Steinberg teaches visual narrative at Penn…
Jody M KeeneOUR HANDS TOO SMALL We come home for Thanksgiving to watch our mom die. We get there to find the blinds drawn and the fridge empty except for cans of Ensure and Kraft singles. “We’re going to order…
Laura RubyAMONG THE WRECKAGE 1. Earth after the asteroid strikes, leaving the Chicxulub crater twelve miles deep. 2. The dinosaurs, after the fallout dusts them off the map. 3. A mammoth sinking in the La Brea Tar Pit. 4. Neanderthals.…
Grayson Thompsonjuniper poplar I knew a guy who lost over 100 lbs by running away from himself he taught me to start small like a building and eventually turn the world over with my feet the first block felt like…
Pat RyanTHE ACTIVIST IN THE NURSING HOME It was Monday morning, a few minutes shy of noon, when I entered the Visitors’ Room of the extended care facility where I was embedded. The room is square and high-ceilinged, with a…
Brendan StephensHELL’S MOUNTAIN Long ago, after I died, I found myself alone in a vast wasteland with nothing on the horizon except a single imposing mountain gray with distance. This wasn’t paradise. I’d never been a believer, just an ordinary…
Jon ChopanAN EXAMINATION OF THE TEXT AS IT PERTAINS TO THE DIVORCE AND SUBSEQUENT ROMANCE BETWEEN CHARACTERS XX AND XY Rabid ……….Which is the only way to describe XY’s love, even now, when XX is gone, when she is off…
Andrew Michael JohnsonDUNES DAY In the summer of 2020 we fled the confinements of our house in Kansas City and drove to Colorado. After the first three months of pandemic lockdown, my wife, three young children, and I needed to…
Lauren BakerYOUR BEST IMPRESSION OF AN EARNEST MAN There was a Post-it with a heart drawn on it stuck to my desktop computer. I folded the paper square into halves, fourths, and eighths and scratched at the residue it left…
Gillian PerrySOMATICS It had been a month since my miscarriage, two weeks since I decided to take my maternity leave anyway. I justify it like this—I’m not leaving the office for maternity, maternity had left me instead. Davis leaves for…
Pat JamesonDISTRACTED That afternoon was the afternoon I followed the starlings across town and accosted a distracted driver, but before that, me and the other irregulars were at Joe’s explaining to a new recruit how you could tell whether you…
Interview by Michael McCarthyAN INTERVIEW WITH TOM DALEY, AUTHOR OF FAR CRY (Ethel Zine) Tom Daley is Boston’s bard. His dedication to the craft should be obvious to anybody who’s spent an hour with him, for in that hour, he…
Andrea Caswell5 TIPS FOR REVISING Revision is an important but often-dreaded stage of the writing process. Having to revise can feel like facing a harsh reality after the freedom of free-writes, and of first drafts bursting with inspiration. But if…
Tricia ParkTIPS TO UNSTUCK YOUR WRITINGSecond in a 5-part series Sometimes, the hardest part is getting started. We get overwhelmed by self-doubt and too many (or too few) ideas as we sit, staring at the blank page. Often, we just…
Tricia ParkTIPS TO UNSTUCK YOUR WRITINGFirst in a 5-part series Sometimes, the hardest part is getting started. We get overwhelmed by self-doubt and too many (or too few) ideas as we sit, staring at the blank page. What if I…
John FriedTHE FICTION MULTIVERSE, or What Happens Next. Or next, or next… In the brilliant British playwright Caryl Churchill’s one-act play “Heart’s Desire,” a mother and father sit in their kitchen, awaiting the arrival of their grown daughter from a…
Interview by Hannah Felt GarnerAn Interview with Author Phoebe Reeves on Two New Publications I Think of My Poems as Being Products of Sound— Phoebe Reeves Phoebe Reeves is a poet and an English professor at the University of Cincinnati…
Jacqueline EllisFLIGHT PATHS December 2021: I give my dad a project: tell me what you remember about making wine with your friend Franco, back when we lived in Peterborough. The task distracts him while he waits for biopsy results. Suspected…
Christine H. ChenMARK MY WORDS Ah Ma tells me what a lucky girl I am, I am the only child, Ah Ba spoils me with toys I break within a week, dresses I dirty within minutes, shoes I muddy after…
Rita Mendes-FlohrTHE SECRET ANNEX In all those years we have lived in this the old house in town so close to the sea, I have never been able to get near the beautiful turquoise water behind the row of houses…
A. J. JaconoSAHARA DREAMS The first night of the tour, after the guides had hitched the camels and secured the mess tent and laid out the steaming tagines and plates of couscous, Cash decided to make some friends because he…
Robin KinzerMESENTERIC PANNICULITIS AT NINE MONTHS Today, they applied electrodes to my abdomen, then told me to slowly up the voltage. With each added jolt, it felt more like a hundred bumblebees burrowing beneath my scarred and dimpled skin. I…
Meg LeDucWITNESS TO THE ARIA A sculpture soars in the sky of Meijer Gardens, red as a hummingbird heart, rising over the pinprick of a groundskeeper below. Of the painted scarlet steel of his public art, Alexander Liberman once said,…
Erin Pesutchurch There came a time about three years after we moved to Vermont when I decided I wanted to go to church again. Really what I wanted was to go to church at Christmas. Really what I wanted was…
Anne PanningMAGIC WINDOW (CHASING HOME) What did you think when you cupped your hands against the glass and peered inside? Did you think the old wavy Victorian glass was a portal to the past? Did you see your mother in…
A. C.THE PHANTOM BABY The baby dies on garbage day. It’s a Monday, very cloudy, with a sixteen percent chance of rain. There’s a little cough, a little spit, then nothing. The collection truck comes on time. It was not…
Meg PokrassSHAPES He is kissing his wife goodnight on the cheek as she slips off to the spare bedroom with Tylenol and a hot water bottle. “I smell like a seal,” she says. Before that, she’d been at her surfing…
Yujia LiPISSER CLAM Learned today that clams break with the slightest pressure between forefinger and thumb. I jumped at the crack, admiring a broken shell, gray and soft and more vulnerable than I— a bed of them clamoring northeast, pressed…
Wendy MacIntyreTHE TATTOO Wita’s mother had a tattoo that colonized her left forearm. Six words, sinister and enigmatic: “Keep me safe and kill me.” The dyes that needled this sentence into her flesh were sea-green and Prussian blue. Wita was…
Mark WilliamsPARAÍSO Henry Hoover is in his bedroom, mastering the G-chord on his Martin acoustic, when his father walks in and brings up Science Camp. With Henry’s sophomore year of high school behind him and all of summer ahead, he…
Thomas JohnsonSHUTTING DOWN Stevie watched the road. Driving right now made him nervous. Cars moved tightly in each direction on the highway. Stevie’s wife, Ruth, was next to him in the passenger seat, and their friend, Helen, shared the backseat…
Jordan RanftCREATION MYTH WITH CHORUS OF WORMS IN MY BRAIN nothing springs forward it spills as it would from a drain pipe or falling through a solid sheet of glass. there may have been a man with a spear. you…
Gay DeganiBULLY BOYS Her brothers are rough-and-tumble types roaming the streets after Mother and Father go to bed. They are expert at sneaking out, know every creaky floorboard, every groan in the front door hinge. Robbie greased their window sash.…
Mary LewisRED SUN Using the full twelve-foot length of the handle, Jake pushed the floater over the last slab of new concrete, then pulled it slowly back towards him. This was his favorite part of the job because after all…
Samantha NeugebauerVILLAINS Back then it was impossible to do anything with my mother sleeping. In the evenings, we watched Prancer and ate turkey clubs; in the mornings, we drank coffee, then Bloody Marys. It was when I worked in the…
Megan E. O’LaughlinMEDITATING IN HELL Age 24. The Gambia, West Africa. I do not pray five times a day like the people in the village. When I duck into my little house, the girls ask where are you going? I…
Caleb MurrayRANDOM PRECISION I woke up in the morning with a hemorrhage in my brain that made me think that life is some kind of nightmare even though, logically, such a state of affairs would be irrelevant to life—after all,…
Nathan LippsTWO POEMS Controlled Burn To the north they have set fire to a thousand acres of a very real forest to prevent future fires. Walking through the ash it makes sense to him the many ways we handle a…
Shabrayle SetliffTO MY ONCE AND FUTURE BODY Grandmother’s body was vast, heavy, and unknowable. Her belly was like an ocean in a cave. She never understood the glorious figginess of it. The tacky, seeded roundness held together with lovely bruised…
Kevin EguizabalTHE SHAPE OF A FOG It was in the water, the shape Of a fog. Surrounding me with ambiguity. Western shadows. I had so many questions. A begging dog. A valley flowered in spring— Hanging in the air. A…
Kelly PedroTHE BEST THING YOU REMEMBER The baby shower was on a Sunday, a day that was supposed to be about peace and rest, but Connie felt anything but peaceful or restful. Her hips still ached from a terrible night’s…
A Novel by Patrick Modiano, translated by Mark Polizzotti, reviewed by Jeanne BonnerSCENE OF THE CRIME (Yale University Press) I write down all kinds of little snippets of thought because otherwise they will float away. For example, one day in…
Ian Clay SewallON AUTOBIOGRAPHIA: YOURS, MINE, AND OURS 1. Writing stories and essays about the people I remember and the people I know requires stretching out moments, staring through a square piece of stained glass that’s purple and blue and…
A Novel by Miriam N. Kotzin, reviewed by Lynn LevinRIGHT THIS WAY (Spuyten Duyvil) They say it can be done, but it is hard, very hard, for most betrayed wives to regain trust and forge ahead in a marriage with…
Interview by Kathryn KulpaFLASH-WRITERS: TRUST YOUR READER: a conversation with Nancy Ludmerer, author of Collateral Damage: 48 Stories (Snake Nation Press) I had the pleasure of interviewing Nancy Ludmerer, a student in one of my Cleaver flash fiction workshops, about…
Interview by Hannah Felt GarnerI Tell My Students All The Time, “Your Job Is to Make Art. Your Job Is Not to Explain Shit,” a conversation with Christopher M. Hood, author of The Revivalists (Harper) I met Christopher M. Hood…
Ona GritzFROM DRAWER TO BOOKSTORE IN JUST TWENTY-FOUR YEARS: The Long and Worthy Journey to Publication The oldest version of my forthcoming middle-grade novel that I can access on my computer is dated 2010, though I know the drafts go…