by Allison Whittenberg
We had eggs. Eggs and bacon, too. But Dad wanted an Egg McMuffin—with sausage. And we didn’t have sausage, and we didn’t know how to make it taste like McDonald’s. Continue reading
by Allison Whittenberg
We had eggs. Eggs and bacon, too. But Dad wanted an Egg McMuffin—with sausage. And we didn’t have sausage, and we didn’t know how to make it taste like McDonald’s. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by James Cariddi
The other Thursday I was sipping dark rum drifting in and
out between twelve and one watching through the smart TV
my third grainy educational video since my wife went to bed,
called “How Medieval People Got the Best Sleep in History,”
about all the cool things people did between their sessions of
natural, biphasic sleep Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Amanda Hays Blasko
We’re poor until Graham almost dies.
Like many things, it starts simply enough—we’re outside in the sun, waiting in line for the new barbeque place. The restaurant presents as a mom and pop but is actually run by a megacorp, and it’s so committed to its “small business” aesthetic that people wait in line for hours for the business to open, hoping to receive a slab of paper-wrapped meat before it runs out and the line disperses. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Wasima Khan
They used to call this wind Kusi,
soft, southern, bearer of trade and stories.
It brought the dhow,
tilting into the harbor like a hymn,
its hull fat with cloves and longing. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Alice Cross
Ethan escapes as soon as Russell erupts. He remembers to grab his jacket, so he should be okay later when the temperature drops.
He knows what he would see if he dared to look back: their parents frozen in fear and shame. This bullying boy is their son, the product of their union. They await what they see as their due, their punishment for somehow failing him. Soda has been thrown in their faces. They will be grateful it was not the can. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction