by Anna Hundert
If you were to think that all love is somehow cosmic or universally anointing, you might think that all love songs are about God.
by Christiana Louisa Langenberg
Stare at your reflection in the storefront window. She looks familiar, you think.
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.
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.
by Laurel Miram
Pale yellow pads are best. They contrast well with black Sharpies. No one can miss a bumblebee.
by Christina Litchfield
We meet on a Monday. You hate Mondays because the weekend means car accidents and those are often tricky and unpleasant.
by Mark Schimmoeller
The wild plums are blooming. They have bloomed every April since the man moved into the woods.
by Tommy Dean
I might as well admit that I’m sinking. You know the joke about lifeguards drowning? Rip currents don’t care who they plunge to the bottom.
by Danielle Claro
Employing every classic device in the Grand Gesture toolkit, this work is a stellar model for students of the form.
by Lisa K. Buchanan
The mortician arrived last night, well before the viewing, to paint our little girl pretty.