Iridescent Erin

A memoir Lisa Verdekal       The last time I saw her she still lived in London, still crimped and colored her hair. Rich purple out of a tub of Plum Directions.      She still worked the coat check at the same long-standing Goth club. Dabs of speed, cans of pilsner or better glasses […]


                                                             Amanda Forsyth We fell, and fell, and fell. By Tuesday, we were finishing each other’s coffees and sentences. On Friday, we sneaked off work, went […]


                                            Shirin Afsous There’s a red plastic strip with dark green flowers that covers the space between the edge of the Persian rug and the doorframe in my grandmother’s house. The thick summer air […]

Grandma’s Boots

                                                             db mcneill Jenny slipped into her room and pressed her back against door. Her shiny black curls fell over her eyes and she shook her […]

Watchful Eyes

Brooke Tiedt I swear the trees are watching me. They whisper while I sleep. Their leaves rustle every time I breathe. If they know, they don’t say a word. I ignore my hands, the twisted bike frame, the stopped car.  All I see are trees, sap running down their trunks like blood.  Brooke Tiedt is […]


Kaylene Jackmore Somewhere along the coast of Portugal lies an array of anchors that are forever docked in the sand dunes. Long sprouts of grass curl around the dark, corroded frames as if it were them who kept the anchors in place. I can smell the salt and spices perfume the air, but neither of […]

The Old House

Don Tassone No sooner had Bob retired when he learned his old house, the house he’d grown up in, was on the market.   Bob was thrilled.  He had always been nostalgic, and he loved that house.  It held such precious memories.  Now he might actually own it!  He could easily afford it.  His wife […]

I Don’t Remember His Name, a Memoir

 Lana Ayers      There was this boy in second grade, taller by a foot than the next tallest of us. He walked bent over like an old person. Probably to be closer to our heights. He had wavy brown hair that matted down and jutted out oddly and differently every day. His clothes were […]

Return from the Land of Olive (Pits)

C. Susan Evans A Memoir Our flight out of Porto’s TAP airport, “TAP” possibly meaning “Try a Pushcart,” is scheduled for 6:40 AM. Sunday. Christiana, our glib Portuguese cruise director, assures us that only one pilot’s union is on strike and she will alert us about flight cancellations 24 hours in advance.  At 15 minutes […]

Regarding Fortunes and Cookies

  Tom Witkowski Lo Mein is always better if you get it with beef. Everybody knows this. But sometimes I don’t have the extra $1.85 it takes to get the beef. So I’ll just order plain noodles. They’re still good, but without those strips of rubbery beef, it’s not quite the same. The place I’m […]


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