Small. Brightly colored. Deadly to the touch.
Mama sings along with Aretha on the car radio—R-E-S-P-E-C-T—while my little brother, J.T., and I sit in the backseat, a pile of suitcases and J.T.’s fish tank stacked between us. We drive past the Piggly Wiggly, the laundromat, an abandoned playground where invisible ghosts… Continue Reading “Not Even Prince Charming Can Save You Now by Kristin Tenor”
After the right kind of storm, we would load up and drive down to the cat streets: Lion, Puma, Ocelot Avenue. Aunt Hyacinth would buy my cousins and I cherry limeades, our orders gliding across damp cement by shaken teens on roller skates. Then… Continue Reading “Hot Air Rising by Olivia Wolford”
It’s our first day together since the divorce, my daughter and me, and I’m picking her up for a visit. A new kind of dad now. I don’t wake up with her in the other room. I don’t make her eggs with toast buttered… Continue Reading “Warmer Water by Mathieu Cailler”
Your body is an unlikely bed, furrowed and dry as a sun-sucked plain. You’ll need some tending, but I’m sure the garden will take. In the end, most things do. I’ll plant perennials, some succulents and a flowering shrub, purple impatiens that bloom in… Continue Reading “The Garden Will Take by Kate Crosby”
Every day, for the last two years, I relive the high-def loop of our last moment together–the bus station swathed in morning mist, the blare of radio gospel, hawkers and farewell honkers, you against me. I refused to let go as if I were… Continue Reading “Nomad by Vincent Anioke”
I watch as Ama plucks kumquats from the tree in her backyard and places them inside a plastic bucket. Leaves, twigs, and dandelion petals are nestled in her hair, a shrub of gray age decorated with a gardener’s touch. One of the fruits is… Continue Reading “茶茶茶 by Matt Hsu”
The cul-de-sac kids stick thumbtacks into the soles of their feet to measure their calluses and nobody even flinches. They send Morse-code-like messages to one another from their bedroom windows with flashlights; one long beam means meet at Sarah’s, two short pulses means Bobby’s,… Continue Reading “The Cul-de-sac Kids by Jennifer Todhunter”
The first time I see my dead father, he’s sitting on a chair outside our house, circling his feet in grey sludge, slouching like he used to. I tell mum while she’s making lunch. “It irritates the shit out of me, he’s just sulking,”… Continue Reading “One Year by Julia Ruth Smith”
He told me he wanted to eat the moon. Over pasta I had just made he told me he wanted to eat the moon, and the look in his eye, that look he gave me whenever I said it was time for bed, told… Continue Reading “Appetite by Belle Gearhart”
It started with music: The Black Crowes, The Police, The Cure. That’s how they spent their time with each other. Leo and Maxine, together in the front seat of his silver Accord, separated by only the stick shift. They sat there to listen to… Continue Reading “A Missing Beat by Abby Manzella”