Nonfiction

BAD SPELLBy Autumn Shah My mom says she was under a spell when she married Kris Chapman.She thought he looked like the dashing actor, Omar Sharif. But really, he looked like an evil sorcerer or...

AN EXTRAORDINARY WOMANBy Patrick Hahn Did I ever tell you about my one degree of separation from the late Dwight David Eisenhower? That’s right, between me and the 34th President of the United States of...

UNSENT LETTERBy Holley Hyler My Love,It is a sunny afternoon in late summer, and the world is alive with color that is doing its damnedest to chip away at my melancholy shield. Below me is...

PARENTING REDUXBy Pam Munter How old was I when I realized I was the family’s black sheep? As long as I can remember, I knew I could not trust my parents with my real self....

A INSIGNIFICÂNCIA DE SER UMA COISARita de Kasia A. Amaral Eu sou uma coisa. Ou eu fui uma coisa? Acho que antes eu era uma coisa e agora sou outra. Como tantas coisas nesse universo...

UNDERWORLDS APART: A STORY FOR AILIEBy Mindy Watson My Ailie,Newly three years old, you’re a different flower bud to me every day: one day fierce tiger lily, knocking down boys with a resounding “HIYA!”; one...

ABOUT FOODBy Michelle Cacho-Negrete My mother loved food but she hated cooking either because she wasn't good at it or wasn't good at it because she hated it.  Her oatmeal was lumpy, meat too well...

MY FATHERBy Paul Petruccelli At 5:30 a.m., the sun has not quite begun its ascent behind my sister’s house, on the other side of the golf course she could never afford to join. It is...

BERKELEY REVISITEDBy Alice Lowe I was 42 when I first set foot on the “Cal” campus, the University of California, Berkeley. I still can feel the shockwaves—instant, intense—followed by the startled realization that I could...

BEAT ONA Meditation on Violence,Teaching, & Paper MakingBy Nika CavatIn this here place, we flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass. Love it. Love it hard. Yonder they...