I do not want him to see me sitting in my recliner by the window. Only I am aware of this secret—that I ordered furniture online because it would be too heavy for me to…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
Duck Blood Soup
The jar looks to be full of swamp water. Its contents swirl and leave grit on the glass when you turn it over in your hands. “Duck blood soup,” explains your mother. “Czernina.” It always…
Spill Your Guts
The first time I saw Laura Patterson’s guts was 6 years ago. We had just met, sophomore year of high school, when she sat down next to me in the library. We chatted for a…
WHAT WE WANT FROM OUR SUPERFOODS
I’d like my spinach to manifest childcare. Dan wants it to offer legal advice. Martha wants the spinach to fold her laundry, wash her dishes, and maybe clean the bathroom? Jennifer just wants the spinach…
