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ARS POETICA | Creative Nonfiction by Grace Ann Elinski
I believe any activity done with love and presence is a spiritual practice. I believe Love and Connectedness is the God of my world. I believe in hand-rolled cigarettes for espresso shot emergencies. I believe in the Body remembering, immersed in the funk ridden Ross Barnett, suicidal pull of The Atlantic, The Gulf and its…
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CALL ME MR. BLACK | Fiction by Mike McHone
“Mister Black?” A block of ice formed in his stomach. Every nerve in his body told him it was a setup, a sting, and this…, this—what? —eight, nine-year-old kid was the bait. “I’m Nathan.” He scanned the park. Empty swing set. Old lady walking a golden retriever. Mother pushing a stroller. Group of people doing…
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THE NITTY GRITTY | Interview with Katy Goforth
By Charlotte Hamrick Katy Goforth is one of my favorite fiction writers. Since I discovered her, about three years ago, I’ve felt a sisterhood with her through her stories, most of which are grounded in the rural South. She writes about Southern culture as good as any celebrated Southern writer I’ve read with a deep…
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HEALTHY HABITS: What I Need
By Valerie Peralta April marked one year in my position as the coordinator of a college writing center. In the past 12 months I’ve become adept at using Microsoft Teams, developed an attitude of tolerance toward AI as a tool, and gained the trust of my team of tutors as well as several students and…
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AUGUST | Fiction by Patricia Q. Bidar
When my father left us to live with my fifth-grade teacher over in Navy Housing, my mother’s hands changed. They’d always been rough and dry, bare nails cut straight square. Now that she’d begun working, she visited a salon every two weeks. A pink bottle of Rose Milk lotion stayed on her bedside table. She…
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MORGAN TURNS DOWN THE HEAT | Fiction by Kurt Engstrom
Morgan stops to look out the kitchen window at the farmyard. The wind-scoured hardpan rimes a week-old skiff of snow with blow dirt that eddies across the ground like a nest of mice swarming a bad dream. The sun is bright, and the sky is an awful blue. The thermometer on the windowsill outside the…
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BURNING AND DROWNING | Creative Nonfiction by Megan Hanlon
The house was so dark during those long winter evenings without electricity. You and I did our homework by the light of a hurricane lamp and the weak beams of setting sun that managed to crawl through the dining room window. The kitchen, with no windows except one over the sink that inexplicably opened into…
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SONG OF THE CONFESSOR | Fiction By G. A. Rivers
I know you wouldn’t want me to be doing what I’m doing right now, sitting in a deserted dive bar in Hell’s Kitchen, having a beer with my former manager. Emphasis on the word former is what you’d say to me with a tug on my sleeve and a show of eyes, the first salvo…
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INSIDE | Fiction by K.A. Polzin
The last time my father left the house was for a trip with us to Kmart one sunny day when I was eight: Dad shopped for household items, and my older brother and I walked the aisles, looking at the toys and games. Then, never again. He came home for good. There was no announcement,…