Gracy Boes is a recent college graduate with a degree in creative writing from North Central University in Minneapolis, MN. Her work appeared twice in their literary magazine, The Wineskin. Post-grad she is staying in the Twin Cities frantically seeking a purpose that will also pay the bills. When she isn’t working or writing you can […]Read more "Your Mother’s Love was Not a Sign from God"
KG Newman is a 2012 Arizona State University graduate and sports writer for The Denver Post. His first two poetry collections, While Dreaming of Diamonds in Wintertime and Selfish Never Get Their Own, are available on Amazon. Clear Head We cancel our cells and cable just in time for summer and only keep the home […]Read more "Clear Head"
Tom Mock‘s short fiction has been nominated for a 2018 Pushcart Prize, selected as a finalist in the 2012 Press 53 awards, and published by Menacing Hedge. Reservoir As you drift home in the dead of night in the back of a black cab, the road is as spare as the open ocean. It rises […]Read more "Reservoir"
I was looking at an old Moleskine and came across a “2 Line Journal” project I had done for June 2011. It looks like I wrote two sentences each day starting on the 5th, or that was the goal. I was in Maryland helping my family because my father had contracted life-threatening MRSA and was […]Read more "June, 4 Years Ago"
When I told my mom I’d decided to leave Paris and by extension the Louvre, the Canal St. Martin, the Marais, the amazing Chinese place with one-euro appetizers (carmelized lotus root! spicy green beans!) and move back to damp Normandy, she was not convinced. “Why would you want to leave Paris?” she asked, as though […]Read more "Leaving Paris"
I have been camping in my house for a week. This sounds strange when I say it to people. They ask, to clarify, if I’ve moved back into my house. Like every question this year, the answer is complicated, full of footnotes and asides and more questions—“did I tell you…?” “Did you know that…?” “Well, […]Read more "Camping"
Dear Tucson, You’re probably wondering why I didn’t say goodbye. You’re probably upset, and I understand how you would feel that way. If you step back from your raw emotion, however, I think that you’ll start to see the rivets in our lives that led us here. We weren’t happy, Tucson. Not together. I know […]Read more "The Break-Up Letter"
I sat waiting for my lunch to be ready. Closing my eyes, the sun warming me, honing in on nearby conversations. “It was just awful!” “Do you want to meet later?” “We have to get back soon.” “What are you hungry for?” And then, “Think of a Chinese word you’d like to see written.” Two […]Read more "Characterized As Vulnerable"
I grew up in rural Maryland in a developed neighborhood in the woods (although when my family first moved there, we were the only house on our non-square block). I picked a lot of berries in the forest and along the lake, but my foraging didn’t go much beyond that. This winter, my boyfriend accompanied […]Read more "Alien Fungus of the East Coast"
Edith Chandler Kinder was born on a small farm in the woods of northern Minnesota in 1923. At the age of eighty-three, Edith, my grandmother-in-law, politely allowed me to interview her, slightly flummoxed as to why I should care. For over an hour, she answered my questions in her lilting, singing voice, often resting fingers […]Read more "Edith"