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The Pie Was a Final Draft: On Bourbon Pecan Pie & Rediscovering Love
By Michaella Thornton Bourbon pecan pie is one of my love languages. A language I express maybe once a year at Thanksgiving, but last November I was recovering from walking pneumonia and traveling by train with my 6-year-old daughter to visit my mother, her grandmother. I was in no space to pack pecans, bourbon, dark…
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Of Curry and Men
Creative Nonfiction by Charmaine Arjoonlal Each country has its own interpretation of curry, the spicy vegetable and meat dish which originated in India. Curry has a strong odor which lingers long after the meal is finished. Memories that are brought on by smells are called scent memories. “Teach me to make your curry?” my son…
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Artful Academics: The Contour Lines of an Idea
By Brandy Renee McCann My partner observed me struggling through a tutorial on botanical drawing and asked, “Why draw when you can take a picture?”. I looked at the potted aloe plant in front of me and compared it to my drawing. There was a resemblance, but it is safe to say that sketching isn’t…
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Disaster Ballad
By Nicholas John-Francis Claro I’d been with Leslie Flynn for three years, a rail thin ICU nurse from Kansas, who had a delicate, avian-like beauty. She was religious, maybe a little too proud, a bit boring, and put ice cubes in glasses of red wine. Leslie worked the 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. shift at…
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Home
Creative Nonfiction by Aarron Sholar The pole erected, the backboard and rim in place. The three of us children gather around, moving quickly as the cement threatens to set and solidify. We have little toothpicks, our dad watching over us as we slide the wood through the wet cement. We finally have our own basketball…
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I Would’ve Asked
Fiction by Phebe Jewell Mom hates convenience stores, so when she drives me straight to the 7-Eleven after picking me up from the hospital this time, I know she’s run out of ideas. Parking in front, she keeps the engine running and hands me a five without saying anything. Mom knows how hard it is…
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Star of Wonder
Fiction by S.A. Cosby Latisha took a long drag off her Newport as Calvin came through the door of their trailer. The cold December wind tried to sneak in with him; he slammed the door shut as he shook himself, tossing light flakes of snow on the floor. Latisha thought he somewhat resembled a bear.…
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Last Christmas
Creative Nonfiction by Lina Lau 2022 This Christmas, Mom is bedridden. Bundled in blankets, propped up by pillows. Railings keep her contained. Dad bought a hospital bed after her most recent fall, knowing once her broken ankle healed, she would no longer be able to support herself. The hospital bed and a single bed for…
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Keep Swinging: Golf and Writing
By Brett Lovell I have an eight-year-old daughter and a five-year-old son which means I don’t have time for hobbies. I especially don’t have time for a hobby, like golf, that can consume up to four or five hours of my day; driving to the course, warming up, and playing eighteen holes means it takes…