by Donald Carreira Ching
Mark woke half-dreaming, his head still buzzing from the night before. Tihani was curled up beside him, sunlight and salt air filling the room. He slipped out of bed and to the open window. In the distance, Diamond Head met sapphire waters. Waves broke champagne white. He watched the collection of tourists spread out across the beach below, squatting under umbrella tops and tanning on towels, and pictured himself a shade amongst the faces. Nothing truly familiar, Mark smiled and took it in. Continue reading
by Zachary Lundgren
Out of love and out of beer
we drove around a cold October
dusk, looking for girls
who never called. In these woods, Continue reading
by Ruvanee Pietersz Vilhauer
On the day of the last game, Sunny climbed into the car with a black eye. The discoloration was barely noticeable on his skin, which was only a couple of shades lighter than mine, but I could not miss the bruise because of the puffiness of his right eyelid.
I pretended nonchalance, although there was a compressed sensation in my chest. Sunny tried to heave his backpack onto the back seat, panting, his breath smelling of orange soda. It took seven attempts because the pack was heavy and almost as big as his torso, and because he had to contend with his coordination skills. I gripped the steering wheel to curb my urge to help. Continue reading
by Jim Daniels
Across the alley from my grandfather
lived the Callahan’s, who lost Joe Jr.
in WWII. Early on Sundays, Mrs. C
opened the gate and slipped through
his yard, a shortcut to St. Rose.
Rusty squeak, then the soft clock of her heels
against cement, toward God. Continue reading
by Teresa Mei Chuc
these tiny bones
scapula Continue reading