Prose, Poetry, and Art since 1956
builds a fortress in his living room from blankets, pillows, hand-me-down futon and today after shift you’ll go there instead / of going home to your own twin-sized bed, sleeping as the walls you’ve already outgrown try / to shrink you back down to size— he isn’t the right fit either, you knew that / back when he first kissed you, but you keep drifting…
It began with the Andora. The stylist at the bridal boutique had selected the Fleur, the Reagan, and the Andora gowns to try on, but in the end, it was just the Andora. Maya knew this. It was too perfect. She hadn’t been prepared to spend the money that day, but the best things in life are often surprises, or at least that’s what she…
While my mother was getting her stomach pried open to remove a child formedwrong side up, my father sat in the hospital lobby balancing yellow notebookpaper and pen on legs half-feeling and unsteady as he wrote a letter never to befinished to a daughter never to be known. I sleep with the trailing last sentenceunder my pillow, whispering it into darkness like a prayer. A…
24 Hour Submission Window OPEN NOW! All genres, < 1,000 words This round, we’re not asking you to write toward a particular theme. We want to see what you’ve written lately. What problems, thoughts, or questions are swirling around your mind and coming out through your fingertips? Due to limitations in reading time, we’re accepting submissions for 24 hours, or until we hit our submission…
after A Field in England I’ve been here before. A walking ghost before purposeappeared. Eyes rolling, billowing black sleeves, a manleads a group through a field. His smile shrieks.The others hold the corded rope tied around his torso.His arms look severed. They float. He points the way.I see my reflection in his black robe. The days I babbledand thought I was called come to mind….