by Carol Casey The August sun has almost spun the straw to gold in the large stack behind the barn. We take turns sliding down its side, whooping in the earthy smell, the scratchy stalks tickling. Not sure why I go down backward, push off so hard. I land with a thump on almost…
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 Shana Chartier Entitled. Self Absorbed. Just so out of touch. We’ve been given participation trophies too much We text during interviews, we laze about daily Clearly our parents were too soft on their baby. We were told with confidence education is enough No one mentioned two years’ experience to…