By Stephen Alexander A meme circulating social media shows a wedding photo of pop superstar Dua Lipa and actor Callum Turner. The caption reads, “Everything I ask God for, He triples and gives to Dua Lipa.” The joke is…
By: Mary Bone The summer between her junior and senior years, Alex worked as a server at Wharf Mountain. The tips were great. Alex nearly had enough money to buy a new car. The mountain was full of tourists…
By: Donna Dallas Meet on the Edge Of the bayat the marigold sunsetas the old man walks his pug dogand mumbles under his breath Three cars sit parked in anticipationas the illustrious sundrops itselfinto the oil streaked water Three cars…
By: Elaine Lennon They had watched A Nightmare on Elm Street on a television that belonged to Steve’s parents, which meant the television was large and the carpet was thick and the room smelled faintly of furniture polish and whatever…
By: Elaine Lennon Mary Anne Smith had learned, early and with some satisfaction, that the most dangerous people rarely announced themselves. They wore tweed coats with elbows gone shiny, spoke politely about provenance, and waited. She herself had perfected this…
By: Ambreen I sat there glumlywith my head bowedlips pressing on my clasped fingersmy eyes not meeting the blinking screen.Too afraid and ashamed.Nothing I wrote worked.The writer had disappearedsilently, watching from the shadowsmy next movenot knowing whether his failurewill mar…
By David William Jurgenson “Ty? Are you all right?” Elissa asks in a worried tone. My girlfriend’s words break me out of my reverie. I try to smile but can only manage a grimace instead. “I’m fine.” Elissa knits her…
By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Splashes of Mousse, Fruit Salad and Birthday Cake Splashes of mousse, fruit salad, and birthday cake become montages developed viaNibbles of living, else adorned celebration tables. Such traces of happiness convertTo ant food & mold while…
By: Clive Aaron Gill Amelia sat opposite Milo in a busy café after their college art class. Roasted coffee and buttery pastries scented the air. Their conversation flowed effortlessly for an hour, and his thick, black hair falling over his…
By L.A. Robbins Cynthia and I are fifteen when the Jesus Freak movement sweeps our high school in Seoul, Korea in 1972. “Cool kids are into Mary Jane, not Jesus,” I protest as we stand at our lockers. I’d only…