Category: Issues

Sea of Sorrow

TIIA MCKINNEY
Sparkling dark blue waters violently crashed over my head, / They pinned me under their strong currents, forcefully grabbing me in a chokehold / I desperately inhaled, trying to taste the salty air on my tongue, / Instead salty water crashed past / my lips, over my tongue, to the back of my throat, past my tonsils,…Continue Reading Sea of Sorrow

Flashbulb Memory and the Things I Have to Remind Myself to Forget

painting

SOFIA HINCAPIE-RODRIGO
1. It’s a hot one, even for the South—the kind of summer where we are sticky with sunscreen and smelling like a flurry of coconuts and careless adolescence. I tell you I’m not jumping off the cliff unless you’re at the bottom waiting for me. You don’t hesitate—you never do. Escaping the heat, I watch you dive into the lake, shattering the stillness it held….Continue Reading Flashbulb Memory and the Things I Have to Remind Myself to Forget

my brother gets his college admissions letter

SARAH WU
On the day my brother gets his college admissions, he picks his envelope up ever so gently, drags a finger across the edge of the flap, and peels back the white like he would peel back the skin of a banana. The envelope bulges with expectations, ripe with the fleshy substance of letters, words, sentences, paragraphs; if he could slip the paper into his mouth, the faintly salty tang of sweat from his upper lip would mix with the dryness of the paper, letters blurring together into inkblots indistinguishable from each other.
…Continue Reading my brother gets his college admissions letter

Pause and Break 

CAROLYN THOMAS
The winds howl outside, and the rain smacks the ground with a heavenly force. Although it is nighttime, the lightning strikes illuminate the sky—the clapping sound of thunder echoes outside. The weather creates an unstable atmosphere inside Riverbend–a suburb of Silicon Valley. It does not often rain here, and rarely does it pour like this. …Continue Reading Pause and Break 

Broken Hinges

GRACIE ROWLAND
I slammed the door in Hope’s face and told Her / I was better off alone, my pride too brazen to realize that good intentions / Matter more than harsh words spoken over late night calls. / I was too ashamed to apologize back then, too ashamed of the broken hinges I left. …Continue Reading Broken Hinges

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MARIANA RIVERA-DONSKY
She got in the car at half-past two in the morning. / It didn’t really matter to her where exactly she was going as long as it was away. There was only a certain amount of time that she could ignore the steadily growing pressure in her chest – right underneath her collarbone. Right above her lungs. She had lain in bed for hours doing absolutely nothing productive….Continue Reading Untitled

Lamplight

LELAND CULVER
Your face I thought your face I wished your face would long have left me, gone away, above. / Unharmed, although below I go, except for silent wishing, occasionally fishing for unhurried hypothetic love. / But glinting in the dark, your eyes espy my every dreaming thought like burning violet embers I remember once were blue….Continue Reading Lamplight

Top Ten Reasons Why Black Boys Play Basketball

KALIDAS SHANTI
1) Another boy can throw his ass within the pocket of your hips in public. 2) It is a way to show off one’s new kicks, and say, “I got more after wearing these down,” even if that is far from the truth. 3) We battle with the ball, so the court is where we learn what it is to win, what it is to lose. We no longer have to jump a boy, mouth loaded with threats and a knife or hammer at our hips….Continue Reading Top Ten Reasons Why Black Boys Play Basketball

“Till Some Blind Hand Shall Brush My Wing”

JOE SWEENEY
I wasn’t thirsty anymore, so when I heard him calling from over the belts it was ok. Part of it, too, was his voice, which sounded like it had finally decided being exhausted wasn’t worthwhile. TSA workers (agents?) don’t seem to have time for anything. But really that’s only true about the ones behind the belts–at the gates they’re always waving me through. Go on ahead. For some people it’s easier to imagine behind their mask than it is to see, their smile….Continue Reading “Till Some Blind Hand Shall Brush My Wing”

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RACHEL HENDRICKSON
Amongst the curved cutlery, puzzles missing pieces, and books with yellowed pages, a vase held a collection of costume jewelry. When the sun hit it just right, the glint seemed to capture the attention of every customer who entered the front lawn of the Church. Lou was no different. Unable to ever resist a good sale, Lou turned off Route 11 as soon as he saw the posterboard scrawled in sharpie on the side of the road….Continue Reading Untitled

Doe, a Deer

GABBY AVENA
When I am thinking of what to write, I pick at the skin on my lips. I hold the cracked bits between my nails, pinch, and pull transparent flecks of thoughts as a snake peels off its skin, exposing soft flesh underneath. This, too, is an act of translation. I wonder–if I picked, and picked, and picked, maybe I would have a story for you. Maybe I could trade my mouth for the fullness of the world. Maybe this is what the world would say:…Continue Reading Doe, a Deer

Of Choosing a Favorite

DUSTIN COPELAND
The process of choosing a favorite of anything is fraught with contradiction. A “favorite” thing one moment is secondary the next, and even enduring preferences are (however momentarily)  superseded by new obsessions every once in a while. “Favorite” may not even mean what it appears to —I think it is not uncommon for people to call their favorite object something which has some kind of personal meaning or symbolic importance to them, even when that object is not actually their preference in daily life….Continue Reading Of Choosing a Favorite

Smudged

ARI DENGLER
Liza is awake, lying in bed, listening to the intent scratching of pencil across paper. Lukas hasn’t slept for more than three hours a single night this week. Instead, he’s spent all day and night hunched over his desk, lamp basking him in light as he scribbles down his new book. …Continue Reading Smudged

6:43 PM

JACKELINE FERNANDES
6:38 p.m. She finds herself on the platform dialing the number at about the same time she began to think about pulling out her phone from the front pocket of her jeans. In fact, he has already declined her call. She’s probably thinking he won’t show, he thinks, as she rolls her eyes and angrily shoves her phone back into her pocket, thinking he won’t show….Continue Reading 6:43 PM

Fall 2021 Full Issue

Editor’s Note The term “passing” implies movement – shifts from one state to another. Whether that movement is temporal, spatial, emotional, or psychical, our lives are constituted by these transformative moments. Sometimes, the experiences of passing are subtle and elusive, occurring secretly or even subconsciously. Other times, the shifts are immediately recognized, felt intensely and…Continue Reading Fall 2021 Full Issue

It’s Quieter Than It Used To Be

RACHEL HENDRICKSON
It’s quieter than it used to be. The scientists on the television are talking about how over the summer, everyone started noticing how loud the birds were. The crumpled man and overly-polished woman debated on whether or not it was the climate, lack of people, or just an increased noticing that comes from being pent up inside all day. …Continue Reading It’s Quieter Than It Used To Be

Doom Creek, AZ

DUSTIN COPELAND
Death removed from his mount, and spoke: To remove thee I am come, and send thee from the garden forth, to till the ground whence thou wast taken, fitter soil. And it was certain that she did not want to die. But she knew, more certainly still, that she did not want to step down the mountain. To Death, therefore, she replied: How shall we breathe in other air less pure, accustom’d to immortal fruits?…Continue Reading Doom Creek, AZ

Staat und Mauer

ROSS KILPATRICK
Honecker gave the order / To shoot on the inner wall / So comrades died, piled up / Under the American red and whites / Of western Coca-Cola signs // But before the BDR Richter, / Honekcer pleaded / ohne juristische oder / moralische Schuld / For humane end / And to Chile he fled…Continue Reading Staat und Mauer