Fiction, Volume VIII
Eucalyptus
Growth, Liatris Hethcoat Wednesday mornings are steam and oil, cigarette smoke and other unpleasant smells, which is to say that Wednesdays are really no different from Tuesdays or Thursdays or…
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Fiction, Volume VIIIThe Gate
2, Julia Broeker I ran over my boyfriend’s parents’ Maltipoo with my Ford 250. It wasn’t intentional. I’m not a psycho-animal-murderer or anything. I had just punched in the four-digit…
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Fiction, Volume VIIIFor Dogs Have Encompassed Me
Livelihood, Liza Ashley She sniffs his gun because she knows what gunpowder smells like. She likes the smell. Daddy and me used to take her down to the holler when…
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Fiction, Volume VIIISticky Air
Hands, Katherine Rogers There was a spider climbing the wall above my bed. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It was one of those nasty Florida spiders that’s so…
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Fiction, Volume VIIIAn Alien Abroad
Cellular Hierarchies, Effie Jia Dear Mom, My year abroad is off to a good start. It’s a bit chilly, but I’m told that’s normal for this time of year. People…
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Fiction, Volume VIIIMaple Leaf
Junglescape, Meagan Dwyer I was 5 years old when I learned how to pronounce my mother’s name. I’d started to learn enough letter sounds in kindergarten to string a few…
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Fiction, Volume VIIIKeeping Up Appearances
Light and Dark, Grace Long Harold Orwin was well respected in the anarcho-punk community. And understandably so. He wore black denim jackets with anti-government patches, beaten boots with worn cotton laces,…
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Fiction, Volume VIIICream Cheese Weight
facetime, Saber Paustian Ever since Cecilia Harrison’s father told her that no one ate cinnamon raisin bagels anymore, she had made it her personal mission to order only cinnamon raisin…
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Fiction, Volume VIIIRue du Chameau
Golgi, Soren Carlson-Donohue “Don’t slouch, Gazelle, you look like an alley cat.” Sister’s chidings are lost on me now as I sit on our steps. Her steps. My steps now.…
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Fiction, Volume VIIIHide and Seek
Moving Forward, Brittany Lenze The day Summer disappeared, you were at home, feverish and ready for the phone to ring. You’d been waiting for that phone call all morning, hovering moth-like…
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Fiction, Volume VIIIKaieteur
On the Edge of the Falls, Sarah Moore Some things I’m afraid of: that the burglars have taken the DVD player but not the VCR, climate change, a library book…
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Fiction, VOLUME VII
Fading
Hands, Katherine Rogers Shannon wipes her hands down the front of her apron. She has nine rooms left on this floor, and she’s supposed to be off work in two hours.…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIIPrairie Rust, Strawberry Lips
The Battle of Antietam in Technicolor, Alexandra Moleski Annie smears pink paint onto the apple of my cheek with her index finger, raising it up to my cheekbone and then dragging…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIIFacts and Figures
Element of Speech, Bethany Dudek There are 206 bones in the human body. This is a fact. The first time it heard it, my sister Shauna was mocking, “there is…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIIOld Dog Can Almost Hear the Worms Sigh
I Believe in Laundry, Julia Tasho When Vera had got litters before she had been in the woods and she had made little canopies out of leaves with her snout to…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIIFridge Magnets
The Grass is Never Greener, Vinnie Hagar I start with the IKEA bookshelf I bought to display the volumes of Vonnegut and Fitzgerald and Nabokov that my brother gave me when…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIILament for the Dead
Shadows, Amanda Wisbeck Your son isn’t crying. The crowd shuffles along, their suits and black dresses a stark contrast against the bright blue sky and beaming sun. Your wife walks beside…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIICelestial
For Sale, Jess Mezzi In Spanish, the word for “moon” and “sun” are feminine and masculine, respectively. My mother told me it was because the moon represents women and the…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIIA Liturgy of Hours
Study of Myself, Bella Pozo The bell above the chapel does not ring anymore. Midnight comes and goes with no herald. Sister Mary Monica is used to silence,…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIIThe Sierra County Fair
Grandma’s Cupcake Stand, Jessica Ashworth As an adult, Desmond P. Merina will claim that Sunday, October 6, 1991 is the most significant day of his life because it is the day…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIIJourney to Discovery
ano nakikita Mo?, harana After a few minutes of watching people walk through the cold wind my now ex asked me if I was ready. We were waiting…
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Fiction, VOLUME VIIResponse to a Real Overheard Conversation on the G Train
World’s Finest, Chloe Hiu See Tsang I hope you get stung in the face by a bee while you help your dad tear down the rotting swingset in the backyard, the…