John Farrell Kelly A melody emerges in the darkness. My spirit slowly surfaces, and my mind gently moves and stretches. I quietly state, “Siri, stop.” I open my eyes, turn to my side, and tap my...
Cole Pragides At dawn, my grandfather’s eyes are enveloped in silver mist. Burning atmospheres as he looks around his backyard of small effigies. Around us: dented tins, scarred lacquer, gouged wax...
Sydney Koeplin “I think we should have claws.” “Pinchers.” “Fangs!” “Fur.” We threw our ingredients into the twenty-gallon plastic tub we’d stolen from the Galliones’ backyard and...
Kelly Murashige The baby has been crying for what feels like three days straight. Mari, for her part, has joined in intermittently. It isn’t just the stress of being a first-time parent. The pain....
Chris Edmonds We went once to see our father in Crawford, that spring he’d been hired to paint the church steeple. We told our mother we were taking a long bike ride around the lake and maybe...
Alexandra Clemente Perez Carola looks through the windshield of her golden Corolla. There is a green Chevy pick-up staring straight at her. My mother Carola, my husband, and I are on one end; our...
Nafisa Nazir A lifetime of broken plates and bruised knuckles will chase you out of your cradle before the typhoon does. I don’t remember the day I left well, only all that came after. I remember...
Julia Talen Julia Kooi Talen is an essayist and poet based in the midwest where she teaches creative writing and composition. Currently a PhD candidate in creative writing, Talen lives with their...
M.J. Young Every night I cross a bridge. Every night I cross myself & ask to be forgiven for what I have & haven’t done. Father, Father, Father. My first confession was at eight& I...
Chey Dugan Content Warning: This story contains depictions of and discusses the following sensitive topics: death/dying. In the parking lot of Thrive & Blossom, I scratched the stubble on my neck...