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When You Sell Mom’s Teeth
Creative Nonfiction By Arlaina Tibensky When you finally get the guts to find Mom’s stash of 14k dental gold and look to cashing it in, you’re broke. When you hold the bridge in your palm, it’s heavier than it looks and the gold is dark and in need of a polish. When you breathe deep…
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The Pie Was a Final Draft: Lilacs
By Michaella Thornton Because I’m a plant-obsessed dork, five years ago I wrote an Instagram ode to a Miss Kim lilac bush in my backyard: [In 2016] this lilac bush was felled by a neighbor’s dead tree, which fell on our back porch, too. The tree ruined our fence, and, I thought, my beloved lilac…
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Losing Marbles
Fiction By Mikki Aronoff You frown as you watch the cat’s eye, the comet and the clearie spill out from the purple and gold Crown Royal pouch your grandmother gave you decades ago and track them rolling far under the bed. Damn, you think, your bones too stiff to manage, so you remove the chalk…
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Once More to the Lake (with Teddy)
By Danny Cherry Jr. I used to be fucking petrified of dogs. Big dogs, little dogs; chunky and skinny dogs. Corgi or poodles; pit bulls, or those little round dogs with smushed faces. You know, the ones that sound like they’re gargling peanut butter when they breathe. It don’t matter. No matter how much someone promised…
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The Off-Season: How To Survive The Writing Winters
By Wendy Newbury Every February, March, and April, I step into the role of general manager for my NFL team, a coveted position that passionate fans like myself eagerly embrace. Dubbed ‘armchair GMs,’ we immerse ourselves in every pivotal off-season event, hoping each move inches our team one step closer to the Lombardi Trophy. But…
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The Race
Fiction by Lisa Thornton I thought no way he’d do it. He was all talk, all the time. He’d always been like that. In high school, it was about how many girls, how many Miller High Lifes. He didn’t need to tell us how fast he could swim back then because he showed us. For…
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A Southern Philosopher’s Manifesto
A Review of George Singleton’s Asides: Occasional Essays By Donna M. Crow Even though George Singleton claims in the very first line of his Preface which he also calls an Apology, “I hate writing essays. It’s not my gig,” this humbly titled collection, Asides: Occasional Essays, may well be Singleton’s manifesto. Known for his sharp…
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Strike a Minor Chord
By C.W. Blackwell I was thirteen when I strummed my first guitar chord—a G major—on my father’s 12-string Epiphone acoustic. He’d started over with a new family in Santa Rosa just a few hours north of where I grew up, and I was visiting for summer break when he suggested I learn a few chords.…
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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…