By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Our Innocent Sin Danube’s green-leafed lilies,Weser’s sapphire, silky skin,Elbe’s pure auburn sunlight,                   our innocent sin. Hochblassen’s famous song birds,Zugspitze’s awfully daunting din,Wetterwandeck’s strident silence,                          our innocent sin. Hamburg’s sundry fishing wharfs,Cologne’s caravans, its olden inns,Stuttgart’s fully fanciful fountains,                             our…

By: Christine Baek  John Steinbeck opens with a painstaking depiction of the Salinas Valley, his childhood home, and allows both his adoration and familiarity with the landscape to bleed into his descriptions: “The Salinas Valley is a long narrow swale…

By: Ian C Smith At fourteen, wearing my work overalls, so looking older, I breast the bar’s murmuring buzz after pushing through the sesame door.  Payday, air blue with cigarette smoke, a swearing stew.  Women, not allowed in this jingoistic…

By: Emma Bennison The ship’s horn blasted long and loud as the majestic Pacific Jewel picked up speed. The sun glinted brilliantly off the clear waters of Sydney Harbour. Jason heaved a sigh of relief. Finally, his holiday could begin….

By: Wilson Taylor Citizen There is a city in the treesand a genius in the flowers, stamenswhispering to bees. A squirrel’s call,the undulating flight of a finch, the divotin the grass; I am a blunt instrumenthere to recordthe trickle of…

By: Alan Berger  Know what it was that inspired his decision?  It was when he saw that Donald Trump Jr. grew one and even though he looked liked a mad dog foaming at the mouth, ears, and nose with crappy…

By: Anna Villegas Fawn follows Tammy into the women’s restroom as soon as the hostess shows them to their table.  Taking Daddy out to dinner for Father’s Day was the last-minute Saturday night thought of Earl, Fawn’s brother.  But lately…

By: Mike Sharlow The house on 27th Street was nicknamed “The Baggy” which was ironically appropriate. Large areas of the asphalt siding were gone, compromised with age and torn off from wind. The boards underneath, the original siding from when…

By Russell Waterman “Sterling, dearie, nobody likes a grumpy wumpy. Here, let’s turn that frown upside down,” his mother leered as she stretched his lips into a deformed jokers smile. In a snit, the young boy pushed his mother’s hands…

By: Erin Weber Boss  Ron had roots in the community. He was grown from the rocky North Carolina dirt and nourished by its streams and lakes. Like everyone, he had dreams about leaving his hometown, but knew it was probably…