Category Archives: Nonfiction

City of Bridges

By Lori D’Angelo

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, my hometown, the town I was born in, the town I lived in until I was 18 years old and then again for a while later, is the City of Bridges.

Pittsburgh has 446 bridges, more than Venice, Italy, which formerly held the record for the most bridges. Bob Regan, then a visiting professor at the University of Pittsburgh, figured this out by counting them and writing a book about Pittsburgh’s bridges. Continue reading

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Purge

by Daniel Garcia

It is 10:00. You are in Dr. Caneen’s English 2500 class and it is, thus far, your least favorite class of your major. You will never understand why you were required to take this course, instead of the intro to your concentration, which is Creative Writing, not Literary fucking Analysis. Regardless, she is lecturing today, but only part of you is listening, because you have a chicken biscuit in front of you, you have dipped it in barbecue sauce and, Christ, does it look divine. Continue reading

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Bombs Away

by Liz Prato

Bombs exploded seven miles away. Seven miles looked like a lot less at night, when the only thing between me and the bombs was a dark ribbon of ocean. The flares were like giant Roman Candles streaking into the indigo sky. Sometimes the sonic booms rattled the windows on Maui, and once an unexploded bomb landed in the Maui mayor’s cow pasture. The dark ribbon of ocean protecting me from the assault was the ʻAlalākeiki Channel, the waterway separating the southwestern coast of Maui from the island of Kaho‘olawe. Continue reading

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Haunted

by Steve Coughlin

He was the bedroom, the Black Sabbath poster thumbtacked to the wall. He was the unmade twin bed and dirty sheets my grieving mother refused to wash. He hovered outside the second-story window. My dead brother watching as I turned out his cracked lamp. Continue reading

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Tara en Teguc

by N.T. Arévalo

 

I.

The Toncontin International Airport, the actual landing strip, is one of the shortest (most dangerous) on the planet. The pilot descends quickly into a canyon, ducking a mountain, and when the plane hits the tarmac, it must do so at an exacting speed so it brakes before the cliff. That’s right: the cliff. There’s even a traffic light to pause motorists as the plane’s wheels dip a fistful of feet from the highway. Continue reading

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