1969

by Kathryn Kulpa
You gave up chocolate for Lent but it didn’t take. You aren’t good at saying no. Hungry girls want everything.

The Escape Artist

by Partridge Boswell
In the museum of trauma, you stand back at least ten feet from each painting. Out of respect for other patrons mainly and the tacit rules of viewing.

So Slow That It Sounds True

by Vanessa Tamm
You remember running barefoot on a long road that spiraled down a mountain, and the road was wet, and bits of gravel cut into your soles.

Height Determined by Distance

by Tommy Dean
We’re in the car again. Dad drunk and playing with the radio from the passenger’s side, his knuckles bruised and swelling. He takes his anger out on the walls.

In the Museums of Heaven and Hell

by Goldie Goldbloom
On either side of the halls of Heaven and Hell are the great glass-fronted cases displaying the glories of this world.

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.

Paper Nests

by Laurel Miram
Pale yellow pads are best. They contrast well with black Sharpies. No one can miss a bumblebee.