by Carol Casey The path is trodden, dusty, level.You know it will take youwhere many have gone. Step off—tangles of brambles,sometimes with blackberries,more often with little clawsthat catch on clothes and skin;and tortuous tree roots—inconvenient, sacred data unearthed—subterranean snakelets somehowsifted into snarls for feet to catch.There are stems that twine…
by K. M. Frantz On the eve of your fortieth birthday, I sat and glanced at the chalkboard hanging on the wall adjacent to my chair. On its surface were colorful reminders I’ve left for my family—usually things pertaining to our day-to-day. Occasionally, I’d give a welcoming shout-out to a visiting…
by Ann Hosler Your mangled face was bared to the crisp January air. Teeth and hair and debris scattered across the snowy road. Thirteen may be unlucky, but those long years together built a sense of trust and familiarity. Loose chunks of pavement secreted beneath snow deceived us as your…
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…
by Michael Christopher Cole I walk into ‘The Golden Derby’ and look around before the hostess has a chance to greet me. Alec stands from his chair and waves to me. I walk over to him. He has a sport coat and tie on, which is fairly ‘decked out’ from what…
by Laura Grace Weldon Air is soft here fluffed silk against skin, each seam lying just so. Here the heft of a Yale ring, shoes that must be Italian, a wristwatch pricier than two years of her wages. Frayed cuffs turned under a decades-old shirt, cheap even when new, mark…