by Robert Barhite I hate cops. I grew up in Postville, Iowa, way up in the northeast corner of the state and not too far from the Mississippi River. Nothing much ever changed in my hometown. I went to the same red brick two story grade school built in 1908…
by Elliott Laurence She’s closer to ninety there she is though this sunny morning making her way Hitch in her stride cane in hand. years of osteo’ I’d bargain have left her hunched over. Past the used car lot. Pushing her way past the H&R Block. Never seen her turn…
by Mindy Farmer Dear Dad, Grief came to me this morning. Not like it was yesterday. Not like 14 numbed by my reality – An unimaginable future without you. No, grief knocked softly, gracefully sitting beside me; Contemplation in a cup of tea. I wish I could offer her a…
by Emily Graham Nestled in the countryside of a sleepy, north-eastern town, Sat a simple- little house on a hill. The long, stone driveway was framed by uncut grass and pine trees. Rundown buildings dotted the empty field. The sun had begun his weary decent to the horizon When the…
by Lysette Cohen Dusk had begun to fall as I stepped into my grandmother’s bedroom. Her bed was empty now, but I could still see her tiny frame in peaceful slumber, her chest barely moving the brightly crocheted quilt as she breathed in small puffs. On the dresser, a lone…
by Casey Dare the smooth bore, breech-loaded, single barrel shotgun bangs an answer to the whispered questions— why do they fight? why does mama cry? is he still hitting her? Why won’t someone help us? cold December night lit by lights on the evergreen trees, blues reds whites blinking…
by Robert Scott Because he was afraid, John Kirk Ormsby, the new managing overseer to that great patch of fertile North Carolina land known as Excelsior Plantation, had passed the night in his office and not at home comfortably in his wife’s good bed. The whitewashed mill office was dimly…
by Crystal Wesley I feel swindled. Bamboozled. My millennial past has lied. Long lived a hatred inside my “friends” That I thought with ancestry had died. I knew racial issues still exist, But they were few and far between. Yet with the emergence of one figure, New faces on old…
by Casey Dare For Ensign Paul H. Backus, USS Oklahoma He whispered softly for the 2403 Why them and not me? Generations later a monument would proclaim Those words etched in granite from this day. Flags fly over green fields next to hotdog stands and turn-styles Marking time, click clack…
by Joni Bour It was a horrible, sideways rain day, seen only on the Oregon coast. I remember that day, because I remember him. He was quaking like an aspen tree, dripping, trying unsuccessfully not to fling water everywhere. He just stood there, not quite making eye contact and barely…