by Anthony Albright
Who knew
this hue
of blue
existed? Continue reading
by Anthony Albright
Who knew
this hue
of blue
existed? Continue reading
by Kelsey Coletta
The music is drowning out our words and I want to scream louder. He’s seething, demanding to know why I left his side. I roll my eyes, sip my drink, bite my tongue and swallow the ache. Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction
by Veronica Montes
Her tears and her spit and all her complicated feelings fly into the air.
She says many things including don’t make it about you, Mom, don’t. I nod and stop talking. I sneak a look at my son, who just flew in from New York. He’s scrolling through his texts. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Julie Paul
In every wave, a multitude of yellow fish.
It’s November, 2017, and we’re in Kona, on the Big Island of Hawai’i. We watch the ocean from the wraparound lānai of Daylight Mind, a laidback cafe with good coffee and the wifi password “perfectview.” The ever-promised rain is falling, the first real rainfall in six days. A yellow-billed cardinal just visited for our muffin crumbs, and the scent from a foraged plumeria blossom beside my plate transports me back to high school. I wore frangipani essential oil on my wrists then, a strange coral pink elixir in a glass vial from the health food store. Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction
by Tyler Dunston
Though there is nothing magical
about this city, I can see my father Continue reading
Filed under Poetry