#82: Fiction by A.E. Milford

WHERE THEY PLANT THE TREES IN STRAIGHT LINES Each chair in the restaurant is different. Tall backs. Low backs. Red cushions. Tan cushions. None of them match. It reminds you of England. Or what England might look like, since you’ve never been. You’ve never been much of anywhere outside of New Jersey. Your family could […]

#81: Nonfiction by Beth Browne

SLOW AS SNAIL The path to the beach is gravelly limestone and someone has placed two by fours sideways to hold the ground in a sort of terraced steps.  Bright yellow and orange Indian paintbrush flowers line the path with a chaos of color and there is one volunteer papaya with infant fruit and a mass of sea […]

#80: Fiction by Ibrahim Babátúndé Ibrahim

REPARATION Tebogo hates these trips from their lonely countryside in downtown Phoenix, Arizona, into neighboring towns on Edmund’s cheque expeditions. Well, they were Edmund’s, but he can now say they’re his too, and this further heightens his reservations. His heart races from the first steps out of the house until he’s back again.  Their last […]

#79: Nonfiction by Deborah La Garbanza

ROILING “Roiling,” Paul said with a frown on his face. “Every book I read these days has that word in it.” He sat up from the futon. “Why do you think that is?” I asked. He shook his head. He was reading a novel by David Leavitt, a gay author we both disliked. I reeled […]

#78: Fiction by Lita Kurth

MY HOROSCOPE, AKA SIGNS “Aquarians are subject to sudden ‘Eureka!’ moments that can change everything. The Aquarius man has the trait of a fresh un-blinkered outlook.”1 My horoscope for February 6th was amazingly specific: “There is a place in America where you can buy a one-topping pizza for $4.99. Including delivery. Find it, and you […]

#77: Fiction by Christine Ma-Kellams

PUERTO RICO IS NOT A STATE Rong arrived in San Juan on a bright Saturday in the middle of December. Like other Saturdays throughout Puerto Rico’s unfailing tropical seasons, this one was marked by persistent sunshine that refused to quit, interrupted only occasionally by a gust of ocean. As the plane descended onto the landing […]

#76: Fiction by Thomas Elson

SICK HEADACHE Look closely. You are where it began—at a time before polio shots, seat belts, and television. A time when visitors entered houses through unlocked kitchen doors.  And, after all these years, is it as you remember?  It’s early November, just past dusk. You stop at the corner two blocks east of a grand […]

#75: Fiction by Michael Keenan Gutierrez

THE STILL On their first date, they attend a socially distanced rooftop gala in flapper wear. It’s New Year’s Eve, 2021, Brooklyn. Martha is a pale brunette. Marty is Mexican. She wears a mesh deco dress and T-strap heels, while he’s in a tuxedo, classic and suave, going for a look he calls Tijuana James […]

#74: Poetry by Stephen Wing

VIEW FROM A MOUNTAIN RIDGE  “Mom,” I ask on the way to the car, “Do you remember hiking with me on the Appalachian Trail?” Single file, step by step along the ridgeline of Blood Mountain, three days to walk ten miles, Mom leading the way with a hiking stick in each hand, one long leisurely […]