By Jennifer Conderino I was thirteen years old, sitting in my father’s truck, when my life quietly split into a before and an after. He was angry; he often was when it came to my mother. Their divorce had happened years earlier, when I was five, but the fighting never…
by Christian Linville Circling above O’Hare in the afternoon sky, the aircraft trembled as it passed through the shifting waves of air. Kara smoothed the wrinkles of her blue skirt, crossing her legs in the dim cabin as the aircraft descended. While she felt the nakedness of her ring finger,…