Featured Writing

Morning in Yangon

by The Poet Darkling It’s always been about the tea. Black. Sweet. Dollop of curdled milk. Everyone has a shop. and they know how you like it by reading your face. You take yours creamy strong sweet. In a back room, salty little fishes bubble in a cauldron over hot…

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Featured Posts

Morning in Yangon

by The Poet Darkling It’s always been about the tea. Black. Sweet. Dollop of curdled milk. Everyone has a shop. and they know how you like it by reading your face. You take yours creamy strong sweet. In a back room, salty little fishes bubble in a cauldron over hot…

read more...

Who Is My Father in This World?

by James Ryan No one shall be forgotten who was great in this world. Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling Hot it was, wincing hot. Just another radiator-bubbling August afternoon for the drivers of southwest Missouri. But not for me, a thin-blooded, pale-faced Bronxite from New York City. I felt the…

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Saturdays at the Kitchen

by John R. Murray The worst thing about arriving at the food coalition’s kitchen was getting one of the other volunteers to come downstairs to let me in. It was on the second floor of a church on a busy corner of Pico Boulevard, and even though the kitchen windows…

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SNHU 2017 Fall Fiction Short Story Competition

Calling all writers! Southern New Hampshire University’s third annual Fall Fiction Short Story Competition kicks off on Monday, Oct. 9. Writers can gain more than just bragging rights if their story is selected as a top-three finalist. They’ll have an opportunity to be published in The Penmen Review, SNHU’s online journal for creative writers…

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Untitled from Tampa Bay

by Virginia Winters-Troche I last autumn i was watching the leaves fall and i was thinking if leaves could do it so could i, so i decided to fall in love give myself away like the sun, I could make someone less lonely even if that someone wasn’t me, thinking…

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The Dress

by Isidra Mencos It was turquoise green with black side panels—a simple sheath in stretchy nylon that fit in a fist. When I tried it on I instantly knew it was mine. I stepped out from behind the folding screen and into the main room where my friend Marisa and…

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Schrodinger’s Cat

by Bob Beach Shift change at the Ford plant was the usual Chinese fire drill. Second shift regulars coming off the line poured out the doors and surged into The Altered State, a boxy little bar and grill just past the parking lot. Ready to rock, they fanned out across…

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Gonads are the Organ for Today

by Daniel John “Gonads are the organ for today,” the teacher said in organ class. I opened my expensive anatomy book to the drawings of the female reproductive system. My face started to heat up. Women crowded around to see the pictures, like a flock of ovaries. I moved back…

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My Sister Maddie

by William Thompson I wake sometimes, knowing my sister has been looking at me—about to say something, but she never does. The words of blame never come. That came from my father, but even he never spoke the words that have condemned me for almost three decades, not even in…

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Dance with Me

by Benny Diaz III Rudy Esparza didn’t like to dance. He couldn’t understand how people could do it, how they could coordinate their hands and their legs to do what the music told them to do. Even as a child, Rudy hated to dance. He used to make fun of…

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