Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 10
Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 9
Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 8
Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 7
Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 6
Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 5
Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 4
Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 3
Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 2
Released March 22nd, 2022
VOLUME 1
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Dance on the Ashes of Your Enemy
Dorothy, Ciera Land A few hours before Ortega taught me how to dig a grave, he was visited by El Corte — the Cut One — but my friend didn’t warn me he was going to be murdered. All I knew on that chilly next to last day of October was that he was in a…
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Neon is lighter than air
Dusk in the City of Angels, AJ Favorito I spend a cold summer searching for my own hill to die on and find a bowlful of sun, the lip …
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In Brevity
Rose-Covered Glasses, Margaret Wright My Grandmother’s diary entry for September 8, 1943 reads: “Italy surrendered. Permed my hair.” Growing up, I spent most of my time with her, our houses only seventeen steps apart. I’d lay on the floor looking out of her picture window and she’d teach me which birds you wanted at your…
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Habits
Dancer, Rose Horell The elephant pressed up against Sadie where she sat on the couch, its rough white skin scratching her thighs. It was too big to fit on the loveseat, so its knobby knees and gnarled feet were twisted underneath its massive barrel body. Its great head lolled atop broad shoulders, nodding to the quiet…
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The Boatman
Pink Creek, Louise Rossiter Winter ends, and the lake thaws: frostscape turned fairyland,flies flit through lilies, the surface serene. The boatmanunhitches his crafts at the coming of spring; the heat is aharbinger, and he its only heeder. Soon enough, three visitors come: muddied boots, liquor-lipped.“Ho!” says they. “Lend us one of your boats so we…
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When We Went to 1989
Poppies and WD-40, Chloe Moulin I remember when Julia and I hopped a wall by the river to recreate her parents’ wedding day. The only thing between us and that convent courtyard was a three-foot stone wall with spike-wired bars. We were bored and sad and talking about the moments we remember, even if they didn’t…
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Ode to a Venn Diagram
How Long Will You Love Me, Eric Tran Where else can politicians And cannon balls meet Besides steely, destructive, And inappropriate for a wedding? About the Author Tanner Whitney · University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee Tanner Whitney was born and raised in Seattle. He received his Bachelor of Arts in Creative Writing from the University of Washington in…
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Oh No, It’s Me, Your Resident Advisor, and I’m Already Asking How You’re Feeling
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 the wrong time for community building and I am your Resident Advisor, your guru of…
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How to Appreciate Films
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 in the shadows until your fingers are pruney and old. Do not watch a…
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Horseplay
Rust Rorschach, Tim Embertson Melika, because she was older, taught us all the uses for newspaper: spread on the table before a fishbone dinner. Trim squares to use as toilet paper. Twist into a wick and shove up between your legs during your period. Cut the missing-children page into a triangle and tape to a cross…
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The Village That Raised Me
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 summer time, my grandmother’s crinkled fingers yanking them from their stems, piece by blessed-onyx piece. …
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Just Listening
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 on… no talking, only listening. Granstan would crack something witty and maybe a little crude…
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Trying
Skin Mask Replica, Hunter Louis The Missouri heat was damp and strangling, and her mother’s A/C was broken, so Soph spent most of the spring semester of 1L lingering as long as she could in the campus Law library or the nicer houses and apartments of her friends, riding the bus back across…
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Tense
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 sobjonctif” my Russian French teacher would say, is not a tense but a mood. Other…
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Burning Stranger
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 in the early afternoon, after the night hospital shift, to his sun-lit room for sleep.…
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Escape Attempt
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 have to admit that in this case, she was maybe, just slightly, moderately fucked. For…
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Stones on a Hill
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 do; graduated high school with my best friend Betsy, met a wonderful man in the…
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The Plains of Shinar
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 from corinthian curl to base before they ever left the quarry. you hated that…
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Before You Crash
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 downpour of the rain outside drowned out the blood rushing to her ears. Under the…
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The Crocodile Hunter: Reborn
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. You know why?” The scraggly nomads gathered around the fire with him stared bemused. Some…
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A Dominicana’s Guide to Surviving a PWI
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 be the only drop of color in the pale canvas of your classroom, and the…
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Deafening
Captive, Cynthia Lee My parents and I have spent all day at Boston Children’s Hospital. I’m not sick, but you wouldn’t know that from their reactions. I run off to watch TV while they talk in the kitchen, too quiet for me to hear. We just found out that I was born with hearing loss and…