Talking It Out

by Simon Mermelstein

(first line from Freud, via Emily Berry)

I became a therapist against my will 
and against my better judgement.
I found that asking leading questions
was better than making statements
and had similar effects. Do you know why this is?
How does it feel
when I ask you how you feel instead of inferring? Continue reading

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Bird on Bull

by Cameron Conaway

Well over half of the white bathrobe trailed across the red hotel hallway carpet, but 9-year-old Singkto flailed on, bouncing into walls as though he were a plastic bag blown by the wind. How he waited for the man whose arms were wrapped around him in the bathtub to fall asleep before he pinched his nose and slipped under the water to gently escape their weight, how he carefully waded through the warm water and willed it not to ripple, how he used the broom handle that pained him earlier to quietly unhook the robe from the door hanger, how he stepped out into the main room, opened the creaking door to freedom and looked back at his wet footprints—none of it mattered now. The heartbeat in his throat pulsed with the adrenaline of next, that monster of uncertainty made of equal parts terror and crisp mountain air. Continue reading

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Sister

by Rain Wright

Sister taps against headlights on the memories of the dead

horse killed by the car on the thread of a highway
at night while she dipped and rocked against dark tides
in the rain swift odor of the redwood built Hōnaunau
house with wounded light of shadow beneath
the mango and avocado hitting tin roof Continue reading

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The One Present Moment: Sharing Memories with the World’s Oldest Man

By Gabriel Furshong

When I met Walter Breuning, on the afternoon of September 6th, 2010, he was due to turn 114 in a fortnight, a feat accomplished by less than 100 people, and only six men, in human history.

We had arranged to meet at the Rainbow retirement home in downtown Great Falls, MT, where Walter had lived for nearly 30 years. Despite my early arrival, the chirpy receptionist informed me that he was already waiting in the lounge at the end of the hall. I could hear hammering and sawing in distant reaches of the building, and it was clear that remodelers had recently been at work in the lounge of the converted hotel. Sections of the floor were covered in plastic and sheets of dry wall lay stacked near the doorway. Continue reading

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Coincidence

by Cai Qijiao
Translated by Edward Morin, Dennis Ding, and Fang Dai
 
Lilacs facing the wind
and pine boughs bathed in snow
either meet by coincidence
or miss seeing each other all their lives

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