ARGENTINA 1990: THE ROAD NOT TAKEN by Carol Zapata-Whelan
It is a mild winter day in Buenos Aires, August of 1990, and my uncle Cacho, dark eyes convivial, is introducing me to an old friend in the Ezeiza Airport. My uncle's friend...
WRITER’S BLOCK AT ITS FINEST by Maria Fernanda
A blank page was staring straight into Phoebe’s soul. She had opened her laptop, creating a new document to write in. At first, she thought it was going to be easy, but ten minutes...
ON BREASTFEEDING by Camille Bégin
Ben took a photograph of me as I breastfeed our son for the first time; he did not take a photograph of me breastfeeding for the last time. It was not supposed the be...
WRITER’S BLOCK AT ITS FINEST by Maria Fernanda
Camille Bégin is an award-winning historian of food and the senses who turned to creative writing as she faced a formidable set of life-changing events. Her writing has most recently appeared in Gastronomica. Born...
TITHONUS by William Davis
Tithonus
By William Davis
She is asleep again. You're drunk as usual, playing warhammer III at 1 AM and she has been drifting for a little while now. She lay down about an hour ago,...
DEAR FATHER, DONOR, DAVID by Madeline
Dear Father, Donor, David,
Hello. I am your daughter, offspring… I am Madeline. In many of these messages, the children thank their donors graciously for helping bring them into the world. Letters full of hope...
A QUEST FOR WETNESS by Quinn Campbell
Is water wet? Oxford Languages defines wet as, “covered or saturated with water or another liquid.” It seems evident that what creates something wet is water, so water itself must be wet. However, an...
PLUM BLOSSOM by Hongbo Tan
After a recent move, while unpacking, I noticed a carefully-wrapped package inside an old cardboard box. Ripping off its layers of yellowed paper, I saw a white enameled mug still sparkling as brightly as...
I PLANNED MY FUNERAL WHEN I WAS A CHILD by Reece Caven
I planned my funeral when I was a child. I know how that sounds. It’s not like that. It wasn’t a practice in suicidal contemplation. I’m not eager for it, I just know how...
IN PREPARATION: DANCING FOR YOUR LIFE by Gail Hosking
My mother turned twelve in Kountze, Texas where her father worked the nearby oilrigs, leaving his family for weeks at a time. Little did she know that this was a good preparation for living...