I Baked a Cake as Big as Our House
by Anna Mantzaris
I started small. Bite-size cookies, mini brownies, tiny tarts and hand pies a 4-year old could cup like a fragile butterfly.
The Marked Book
by Sean Gill
The boy begins by saying he has killed a spider, a Goliath among spiders, a monster dangling from the ceiling on a strand of gleaming silk, the grossest thing he has ever seen.
Points of Entry
by Abbie Barker
Sometime before dawn, my son climbs into my bed. “The bat woke me,” he says.
The Night Yard
by Ellen Romano
My mother has asked me if I see / wild animals around town. / She moves in and out of lucidity
Toward the End of March
by Justin Hunt
Pollen dusts our yard. The oaks, heavy / with seed, rake the past from wind, / and an old friend’s voice comes to me
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