by Anastasia Campbell
The light dances in these streets, bounces from building to building. Loud Moroccan sun, loud even in December, has been beating on this intersection like on a drum, and is now leaving. Pedestrians are picking up their pace; cars look as if they hiccup while attempting to move. The whole town of Tangier is just like this light; it is just like the sea it abuts –after a day of escapade it looks for a flat surface to retreat to. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
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
Hawaii Pacific Review 