She drops the newspaper on the table, announcing, “They’re still killing people in Syria, you know. They say it’s over, but it’s not. Anyone can see that. It’s not.”
Category: Fall 2019
Nothing to do in this stupid town but hang out at the mall. We buy pretzels and talk about school shootings, try on earrings, poking them in and everything. Which you’re not supposed to
Stray conversations lingered in the air. Dull grey smoke drifted on the passing breeze peppering olfactory nerves with burnt meats and dwelling vegetables far beyond ripe. The sun, stood high in the clear blue
with all the people I’ll never be: local legend, glad-hander, open armer, yah boy The virtuoso, soft heart, mystery Magnet, statue, prairie fire Coyote, salmon, creek, midnight wish An apophatic prayer, Whispered in Times Square Start walking, In
We parked on the street in the grey light of the overcast afternoon. The house loomed over us as we stepped out and quietly closed the car doors. I glanced at Sam, wondering if
“Who told you to wear those shoes?” Looking down at her pink flats, she answered, “Nobody.” “Nobody?” Looking down at her pink flats one
Monday I’ll sit across the room from the chemo patients. I’ll wait and watch and listen to cancer and laughter and how those cookies on the white plate restore ground for only that moment after or before. * You
The whole drive back, we say nothing. The dead, brown grasslands roll by, bleakly faded by the southern sun. Alan, out of drugs, dry-mouthed, and frowning, drowns in the glare of the bleached white road. Jack, holding a
Cath and Stan were flipping channels from their corduroy loveseat in the den when their eleven-year-old daughter Sybil came in and asked if they had a can of Campbell’s condensed cream of mushroom soup.
We read submissions on a rolling basis