I Will Tell You This Much, and Then We’ll Never Talk About It
by April Ford
The flashbacks are harder to handle now that spring’s almost here. They strike when I can’t easily get back to my pandemic bubble of myself and two cats.
Towel Racks
by Wilson M. Sims
And then I was buying gas station beers and cigarettes, because for some reason I wasn’t supposed to show up to rehab sober.
Thank You, Girls!
by Dvora Wolff Rabino
I’m culling needless items from kitchen, baths, and linen closets. I’m curating friendships. Now it’s your turn to go.
My Stepmother, Myself
by Abi Stephenson
She didn’t have to love me. Biology didn’t force her hand the way it does for mothers.
Playground Doctrine
by Myna Chang
In the grit of a 1975 farm town, 9-year-old girls weigh about 60 pounds, even wicked little girls with bad women for mommas.
Dear Madeleine
by Stephanie Vanderslice
I can tell you this now. Both times I was pregnant, I worried. I doubted my ability to raise a girl.
Love for Sale
by Benjamin Aleshire
I travel around the world and strangers pay me to write poems for them on a typewriter in the street—that’s how I’ve made my living for the last eight years.
Big Girls Like Us
by Kelly Flynn
Every time I see my father, he asks me if I have lost weight. He has done this since I was a child.
The Iranian Blue-Glazed Pottery
by Lynn Mundell
The Iranian blue-glazed pottery sat on our parents’ shelves for years.
Freddy Krueger is Not Real: the Dream of a Burn Survivor
by Dina Peone
One night in my mid-teens, I was under the covers in my sister’s bedroom, deep asleep, while flames spread from a nearby candle.
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