Dead Space, All By Yourself
“I know you’ve got to ask it,” he said, interrupting her. Again, he felt like his mouth was moving without his control. He hadn’t talked this openly in years.
High Point
You can choose a place. If you do, it will love you and not stop loving you even if you leave. I am telling you this is possible.
A Letter from the Editor
Here today, we're pleased to present to you these captivating, curious, and vividly moving works by Leath Tonino, Joel Gordon, Sarah Lilius, Michelle Disler, Michael Moreth, and Judith Skillman. Settle in with your blankets and a mug of tea for some winter reading as the cold rolls in, and we hope you enjoy this Issue's collection.
Postcard from Immensity
“Sophia's aunt is dying and dreaming of visiting the Grand Canyon, dying and dreaming at once. A person is big this way, as is a moment. A chest is big. A postcard is big. A 50-cent stamp with the strength to lift immensity and carry it to Portland, Oregon is incomprehensible. The math is strange indeed.”
Side Effects Include Dehydration
Depression is a stranger
handing her their wedding bouquet.
Confusion blooms outside the heavy church
where she claims the daisies.
Write Every* Day
Does that mean I’m a subpar writer? I don’t think so. I think it’s simply a result of how my brain works. As with many neurodivergent folks, I find it difficult to stick to a strict routine and work every single day. I need some variation and time to recharge.
Lady Flincher and the Mangoes
She bent down and
put mangoes in her
pockets, moved toward
the canal. The geese were screaming.
Swimming Class
I could see people around me, laughing, pouring water on each other. I wanted to act like them. But I couldn’t. What was the difference between us? Between me and the others -many of whom were younger than me - who were twisting like fish in the water.
The Great 28
Naoki stood there saying nothing, and I sat there doing the same. I looked down at the receipt, feeling a melancholic pang in my chest that I subsequently understood to be heartburn. My last Great 28” had been eaten, though I had no reason to suspect such a farewell would be taking place when I woke up that morning.
Writing About Tomatoes Amidst Crisis
Let us reach into the depths of our relationship with this small planet and at the very least show that we cared enough to write about her over and over and over again.
A Letter from the Editor
For this first Issue of Volume 15, our Editors and their readers have curated a trio of literary works that illuminate the emotions we pin to the inanimate and the mundane, all while offering some insight as to how we can move forward in the world today.
Birds That Do Not Matter
Maybe the House Sparrow should form a support group for Birds Who Don’t Matter. Invite the pigeons, starlings, those seagulls that hang around grocery store parking lots. They’d invite the Canada goose, but he’s always too busy and secretly they’re all relieved because, come on, it’s a Canada Goose.
Early October
dog sniff-sniffing in the rust-worn goldenrod
alert to acorn drop and chickadee.
Thrift
The last car-filled donation drop at the Goodwill had been only five days earlier. Had Barry been a part of that drop? She couldn’t remember. At that moment, standing in front of the clown, that old friend, that old foe, it felt like a fresh wound, though she could have sworn it had already scabbed over.
Seeing the Beasts
It’s a heavy burden, but one we can’t seem to shake, to dip into that moonlit pond by the cavern, and resurface with a living poem—the messy made heard and seen.