Bandrui by AJ Strosahl My daughter is born a black hole. After my long struggle, they put her on my chest, squalling mightily, and I look down at her and see nothing. Not nothing, really, but something like a photograph taken by a camera whose lens has been smeared...
Topple by Stephen Haines My neighbors used to watch my father chop down trees while they drank their morning coffee. It was something of an event—like watching live, extreme sports from your backyard patio. Wayne and Renee would set their alarm, eat breakfast, and...
Archipelago by Griffin Reister Johnson We’ll open cold, on a tight shot of a dewy glass of the local beer gripped between two spidery hands, no rings, a pale bump on the side of the right middle finger, bloodless white rinds at the base of each nail. A local...
Inheritance + Sorry by Ho-Ming So Denduangrudee Inheritance Back in the days of film, my father grabbed the Nikon of a tourist getting in the way one too many times and exposed his entire roll without saying a word. He and my mother took what they called...
jeffrey like a giant by Kaija Matīss Mom and Dad throw parties. Big ones. One time they get a pig. String it up in the barn and leave it there till the next day, when they get up at 3am to put a stick all the way through it and hang it over a fire. We love it. Run...
Hers by Beate Sigriddaughter Blues and greens glint in the windows of The Mermaid Parlor. Tiny sequins, I think. I always like to see behind the magic of things. The four of us sit on a lacquered bench outside, Gordon in deep conversation about Snow White with...
