Fog in Dingle, Emily Mui From the river something is stirring in a Pacific ultrablue, an edgeless ripple or a water bomb where the sea sinks into violet. The rower bends over his boat with its talon curve and cargo of grasses. His slender pole paints the…
Livelihood, Liza Ashley It began somewhere along the creek, where the bunch of us were playing around, each of us 13 or 14 years old, far too old to be doing this sort of thing. Still, we were having fun,…
Ocean, Miyuki Blois I remember the pool where I first learned to swim. Blue as the dark and wider than dream. I do not know if they threw me in. I do not remember if they said, “You cannot breathe…
Floral Bones, Raegan Jaeger [Trigger Warning: Depictions of abuse] Yesterday your mother mailed you nine of your baby teeth wrapped in plastic, no return address. I named you. Not your father. She kept one molar for her back pocket. In the first year…
War is Over, Ernest Volynec Before she was drowned in forty feet of silt and squalid water Red Rock was a post for river rats meandered up the muddy Des Moines, come to toe the line of east as far west…
A Better World is Possible, Ernest Volynec For months, she wrote only of estuaries, which is how I knew she was leaving. It was February when she began packing— sweaters, her collection of dried leaves— pieces of her vanishing as she would…
Rome is the City of Echoes, Gabe Montesanti I hate my sister’s laugh. Laugh isn’t really even the right word for it, not really. I guess you could call it a cackle. Or a maniacal chortle? …
Synchronized Formation, Deirdre Murphy I hang from the last brick of August, and cold is tolling. I don’t hear you, but I remember your summer breath, and you still feel like the softest blue behind my eyes. The months we…
Fruit Basket Part II, Jordan Sommer Last week, when Deb asked me to go to dinner with the Qureshis—the Qureshis are students at the University where Deb teaches—when Deb asked me about going to dinner at the Qureshis, we…
Tiny Bust, Jordan Sommer last night the clock struck three, a lonely bird chirped, and I walked into the kitchen on padded feet. slid onto the floor with the jar and a spoon from the sink. I live off…
Captive, Cynthia Lee I almost have the delusion you are with me, crossing tuba soaked streets that leak gator juice into my boots. We pass by lobsters on leashes and fried shrimp earrings and tourists flock to fleur de…
Tortilla Lady, Tamara Dobry Preview: This recipe will taste interesting. Woodsy and starchy and so heavy it will make you feel bloated. More notably, its title will impress your guests. Difficulty: Was it difficult for you to leave home for the first…
Lost Time, Erin Lee coffeecup piss snow Destination Park Street the flashing Tedeschi’s sign two corners wide neon sidewalk puddles that are here until fucking April, at the earliest and 30pack Coors lite for $24.99. the constellations of CVS,…
I’m Tired of Talking About Myself, Jennifer Hart [Trigger Warning: Mentions of child death and abortion] A week after my mother’s funeral, I decided to stay in Wyoming. It seemed like a big decision, but I made it for small…
Untitled, Shiya Wu O Memorandum, thou anonymous gift, Thy narrow saffron figure reflects into glass, Camouflaged in radiant, fiery tones, as Apollo’s chariot hurtles toward its terminus; To his daily haste, thy sprightly essence Is well…
Untitled #2, Karl Rivera Aiden’s porn addiction began, unsurprisingly, with porn. For the first 15 years of his life—or really just the past three, in this context—he’d had to make do with his imagination, a few war-torn issues of Penthouse inherited…
Small House Near Somewhere, Emily Hill Is this what the world looks like to you after half a bottle, Ed? Mountains raging down like drunken fathers? You’re intimately familiar with the slam of stone against stone. …
Persephone, Ester Tang Trigger Warning: Depictions of a sexual nature, underage substance use, and animal death] Mom gave me a lift to Thalia’s house, because she needed the car for work and didn’t want me biking on the main road…
