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Black Limousine
Creative Nonfiction by Becs Tetley As I walked from my last class to the gym, I spotted the metal nose of the limousine peeking out from behind the high school entrance—the only space that fit its long, black frame. I picked up my pace, hoping you wouldn’t see me and no one would see you,…
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Comics, Dope, and Human Chemistry
By Brian Panowich Of the three comic book shops in Pensacola, Florida, the dingy, sprawling store on the “wrong” side of town was the one that best suited my needs. It was sandwiched between a row of dumpsters and a tattoo parlor on the east side of the panhandle, and a rock’s throw from a…
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The Craft of Listening: The Story’s Unique Scale
By Koss A few years ago, while in deep grief, I became aware that stories and poems reside in my body, not just in my head. A poem might wake me up in the form of a low thrum in the night. Sometimes every beat of the poem would come before the words arrived–as a…
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These Things Fall Into My Mind
By Ilyn Welch Adult coloring and maze books bore me. I forgot how to crochet. I don’t have a personal watercraft in my life, and never will at my age. Perhaps I’m a ho-hum individual. But five to seven days a week, I am fortunate enough to walk two dogs during the quietest time of…
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Ladies First
Creative Nonfiction by Leighton Schreyer He. Tall. Mid-forties or so. Dressed in a slick navy suit, pink dress shirt, floral tie. Striped socks—Burberry or Balenciaga or Prada, something fancy—revealing themselves with each pump of the pedal. Briefcase strapped in the bike basket in lieu of the child he (almost certainly) doesn’t have. Can’t have, looking…
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Yarns: On Making Perfectionism Work for You
By Meagan Lucas I hate it when editors publish themselves—especially in anthologies, but that’s another column—and I vowed when I started this mag that I wasn’t going to do that. But then I had an idea for this essay, and I thought a craft column isn’t as self-indulgent as publishing my own fiction, right? Plus,…
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In Search of Magic
By Jamie Etheridge I’m writing late into the afternoon when I see them. A fluffle of eastern cottontails scampering across the road. They move like raindrops on water. Plop. Bound. Leap. A wiffle of unreality. Midway, the mother rabbits pause. They rear up on hind legs. Freeze frame, except for twitching noses and ears alert.…
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Road Trip
Creative Nonfiction by John Lane I’ve told the story so many times it feels immediate, real, if not true. Studying at my desk one weekday night for a history test back in 1973, several of my fraternity brothers knocked on the dorm door. My roommate was out. I answered the door with no trepidation. Why…
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Healthy Habits: Enjoy the Journey
By Valerie Peralta The year I turned 41 I completed my first half marathon. I didn’t do it alone. A handful of women I knew from the church I was attending at the time had accomplished the feat previously, so they gathered a bunch of women who wanted to do the same but thought there…