Wondrous
by Sarah Freligh
My mother is crying again, and we’re laughing / at her because we know nothing of loss and its sad math
Lobotomy
by LaVie Saad
It’s a traditional house, because every morning when the sun rises, when sweet yellow rays reach to kiss our bronze skin through the hand-sewn curtains and double-paneled windows, they only find mine.
Things Are Different Now
by Karen McIntyre
Every morning, I make a neat grid with 10 perfectly square boxes, each square worth 100 calories, and that’s what I get for the day.
Brooklyn Bridge
by Grace Shuyi Liew
As soon as I’m released to the store floor, I turn against the company. I scan every third item the customers bring to the register. Buy one item, get two free.
The Writer’s Trap
by Stephen Parrish
I’d be happy if only my book were finished. (read more)
It all began around a campfire…
Beautiful language
is meant to be heard as well as read, and in fact words were vocalized eons before they were ever committed to clay or parchment. Storytelling began around campfires. We seek prose and poetry that continue the tradition.
Contributor Spotlight:
Love and Hot Chicken
by Mary Liza Hartong
Open Contests
by Stephen Parrish, with the editors of The Lascaux Review