When writing my signature I remember the beauty of her accusation. How she entered the room natural and unpredictable. The picture was much the same. A slight cock of the head and the smile beginning to stretch unevenly. All her weight on her left forearm. I wanted to call her sinister, but that was her word for me and always in quotations. The alignment of her body held. She always led with grammar and pointed optimism. Continue reading
by Mark Brazaitis
Becca Bishop missed her flight back to San Francisco and stayed in Pittsburgh, the last town on her Stealing Fire from the Sun tour, drinking merlot from a bottle she bought at a liquor store three blocks from her hotel at the edge of a neighborhood she knew she should have been terrified of. The next day, instead of boarding her flight to San Francisco (her bandmates were driving to California in a van), she rented a Ford Focus and soon found herself on the decrepit asphalt of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, heading toward Ohio and the town where she was born.
It was Christmas Eve. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Alec Hershman
I buried my face
in the coats, my face in the wreath
on the door—cinnamon bristles
and the party behind me
warped in ornaments. I felt the cold outside Continue reading
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
Filed under Fiction
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
Hawaii Pacific Review 