Kindall Fredricks When I saw Margo on Tinder, I had only just broadened my search criteria to include women. Having just broken up with Jeremy—another sudsy all-American boy who treated the...
Robert Mata We fished all summer. My father taught me to bait a hook with a worm, then a minnow, then a crayfish. Learning torture like Russian dolls, each body a grosser, wider death. The cooler...
Naomi Brauner After the moose, I had to reverse down the mountain. The road twisted under my tires until I found a turnout where I could straighten my truck and fly. I practiced the breathing my...
Mary Maxfield My mother taught me silence like a secret handshake, more muscle memory than vow. When asked about her now, a hush entangles fingers, slaps, knocks fists. I say everything but this. She...
Grant Jensen Young Tommy Jones is building a boat on dry land. The closest lake is a two-hour drive on a good day, but he says he doesn’t care and that he’ll wait for the rain to fall and...