Zoe Goldstein We learned how the sticky parts of the helicopter seeds stuck to our noses perfectly, like tiny green wings. We learned how it was best to roll down the grassy slope three times in a...
Stephanie Yu The goat baby was exactly as described: half goat, half baby. Born in the dead of night under a new moon. The labor, as it had been foretold, had been difficult. The vessel split open,...
W. Todd Kaneko Art by Herlinde Spahr We will walk down to the beachwhere it’s always night, where the fish open themselvesand lay their guts across the stones, the fish we caught on the lineand the...
W. Todd Kaneko I watch my father crawlon the ceiling tonight, moving like a bat in the stalactites, a wishin the form of a man clingingto the plaster. I watch someoneelse’s father slither up the...
W. Todd Kaneko My grandmother once fed meclementines in the living roomwhile she spoke with my father, words in Japanese droppinglike spiders from her lips, scurryingacross the carpet and into...
Benjamin Niespodziany Runner up for the 2021 Greg Grummer Poetry Contest The twins live in an old house with a stick that speaks three tongues. Atop the stick there sits a shifting egg. It rots and...
David Rock Winner of the Greg Grummer 2021 Poetry Contest The friction of experience— a little something heavyto carry around in a pillow case to remind us that our motherembroidered her blossomsat...
Gregg Maxwell Parker Winner of the 2021 Spring Fiction Contest Several men bump her as she goes down the steps. Everyone is coming out as she is going in. It is afternoon, people are...
Megan Falley VIII. Ace places his hand on the Bible in front of the judge and swears to tell the truth. But Ace is an atheist. Don’t you have anything more meaningful for him? I want to ask...
Jessica Rapisarda Runner-up for the 2021 Spring Nonfiction Contest It begins, as it always does, with light. At 4:54 a.m., I open my eyes, and a constellation winks to life in my darkened bedroom....
