Joshua, by Jordana Jacobs
Inside the ovaries of my husband’s grandmother, Sylvie, resided an egg the size of a grain of sand that would have been Hannah, my brilliant and accomplished mother-in-law.
Upper Peninsula, by Andrew Hemmert
If the places you go become you, / you must account for the drive-through / liquor store housed in the old carwash.
by Isabella David
“Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembr’d” has always seemed to me the most perfect pickup line, although it didn’t work so well on Ophelia.
by Cezarija Abartis
The Medici coat of arms, with its shield and crown, hung on a pole on the sidewalk here and everywhere throughout the city, still asserting ownership.
by Konstantina Sozou-Kyrkou
I feel my stomach bubble all day today. It’s my birthday and godfather will be here in a minute or so. He’s promised to bring me a pair of new leather shoes.
by Tracy Harris
We used typewriters decades ago, and carbon paper and different colors of white-out. If we made a mistake we could correct not just the original letter but each carbon copy as well, in the correct color.
by Jennifer Zobair
I have loved books by white, male authors. I have stayed up all night with them, avoided studying for the bar exam with them, sought refuge from broken hearts or unrealized dreams with them.
by Alison McMahan
Recently my husband and I celebrated our wedding anniversary, spending the day at the Vizcaya Museum and Gardens, originally a palatial Miami home built in 1916 by industrialist John Deering.
by Ruth Hopkins
Ahh, yes. Halloween is just around the corner. Time for pumpkin carving, Trick-Or-Treating, and women dressed like two-dollar hookers wearing headdresses.
by William Ogden Haynes
That bowl, whose waves long ago gently caressed / the scent of Sunday dinners, finally washed up / in the swampy cul-de-sac of my kitchen counter.
by Alexis Misko
I feel the kind of sticky / I should feel if this were Georgia, / if I were in an Alice Walker novel / with a fist full of blackberries / staining my southern grin.
by Robert S. King
Follow the script and the scripture. / Even the biography of the damned / is told with sobbing compassion.