How Does It Feel? + Cough Syrup Defense by James Keith Smith How Does It Feel? My twin brother Ennis has the same nose, jawline, and eyes, but we’re identical in appearance only. I graduated high school with honors and he dropped out. I own a home in a decent...
Red Lights by Nancy B. Miller Of all the people on the planet, it was Tracy’s mother who told her the Marilyn Monroe story. A notable morning, because her mother said “asshole” as she stabbed the rubber end of a spatula onto the front page of the Stockton Reporter....
What Followed by Lisa Hockstein For years you heard from your mother and your aunts and your bubbe that you had good hair and good teeth and that the rest would follow. Then, in eleventh grade, something amazing did follow: You grew five inches and passed six feet by...
How to Teach Your Mother to Swim by Donald Iannone Begin in the shallow end. This is not a metaphor yet. The shallow end is where municipal pools keep their chipped blue ladders, floating Band-Aids, grandmothers with waterproof purses, and teenage lifeguards who...
Limerence Milkshakes by Didem Arslanoglu Ruby and I had different epistemological approaches to surviving Los Angeles, which somehow brought us close as roommates despite being, in most other respects, incompatible people—my goals, straightforward, to make something...
Inside by Rebecca Keith What’s inside the chair? asks my daughter. When I say, Squishy stuff, I quickly revise my answer to mean like material, like this quilt lest she take to tearing open the chair to find a stash of toddler gold— squishy toys. What’s inside of us?...
