An Ode to Breakfast, Emma Lassiter We pass each other in our reshall and I ask, immediately, how you’re feeling. You stare, dazed, thinking 3:48 am is the wrong time for checking in. You’re wrong—it’s the perfect time. Because it’s never…
Fever Dream, Emily Lawson Do not watch films only once or twice. Study them like that third trimester sonogram. Try to find the family nose. Watch film noir. Embrace the who-dun-its, the stationary car chases, mustached villains and shadows. Bathe…
The Unexpected, Anasstassiya Selezneva It took a village. One house next to another, four in a row. Cousins and uncles on each end with grandparents in the middle. It took a village to show me how to pick raspberries in the…
This Ain’t Belle’s Rose, Adriana Barker Granstan didn’t much like driving on the Trace. Says they’re too many young bucks looking for love on that stretch. After a drink Granstan and Daddy would chat away and cut up while I listened…
The Complexity of Detail, Olivia Offutt I found the tense of life in my college French 102 class that I took because everyone I knew was in Spanish and French is the language of Voltaire, West Africa, and pretension. “le…
Untitled, Robert McGrady You, stranger, smell of rotting bananas but you smile like my mother after she covers the dining room table in candles and closes the lights. You stagger-step slow, like my father when he walks up the drive…
Behaviorism, Arjun Saatia Zara Envada wasn’t prone to panic or nervousness. Or any kind of fear at all, actually. She didn’t see much point to it. But one who was more inclined towards fits of hysterical panic and terror might…
Pink Creek, Louise Rossiter [TW: Depictions of death and suicide] Wren August 4, 1996 I know most people say life is too short, but I think mine was long enough. I did everything I wanted to…
Haku, Anna Hiltner oh, but cain, i was never going to be what they prophesied i would become. this mud hardened into brick too soon and now columns lie prone in the sun where we left them because they cracked…
Gas Station, Oscar Zenteno “Please choose your payment type,” said the voice from the self-checkout machine. The letters blinked at Fatima. The store, alive with noise a few moments before, now seemed to be silently staring at her. The thunderous…
Catacombes de Paris, Elle Griffiths “It was the summer of 2016,” Alex said, stalwart against the bonfire light. “No one fucking listened to me. I told ’em it was all a ruse. He was back. He was back and remorseless.…
Immersed, Abigail Nasari Mami… todos son gringos. You arrive. Take in the brick buildings decorated by fresh-cut grass and towering trees before you take in how much heavier your skin feels here. You will learn what it feels like to…
