by Craig Rondinone
Samantha Aybar cleared the gravy-laden plates and stained silverware from the dining room table in one swoop and hauled them into the kitchen. She slotted everything in their rightful places inside the dishwasher and swiftly slammed the door shut. Bradley, her husband of nearly a decade, noticed her furious pace as he calmly wrapped leftovers in aluminum foil. Continue reading
by Ella Flores
Even now, everything is ending.
No one knows this, but I am
fairly young, still new to, of, for
this world. Even after
all this time, I have no words
for my diving and rising, newing and unnewing, Continue reading
by Arielle Kaimana Taramasco
as bees are soothed by smoke
I was calmed by yours
you came into my home
my buzzing turmoil
diminished with a whiff
of your cigarette Continue reading
by Robert L. Penick
Jesse got his first suit coat on the morning of his uncle’s execution. It was raining outside and the roofing nails protruding down from the ceiling were black with moisture. Pulling himself up from his cot, he worked his chores: raiding the hen house to prod the hens from their prizes, then emptying the slop jars as the rest of the family had breakfast.
by Terek Hopkins
She was in the fourth grade when she had her first panic attack. There was a storm outside, thunder clapping at the windows, lightning dancing panic above the earth. She thought, This is what it must be like to die.
The attack started in her mind, but quickly made its way down her throat and into her chest. It grabbed a hold of her lungs and it squeezed until her breath was something that she could only catch through a singular, concentrated effort.