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Like Water

August 1, 2019

by B.J. Hollars Fifteen minutes into our first lesson at The Kung Pow School for Martial Arts, my daughter Joan and I struggle through the proper pronunciation of the word “karate.” “Ka-ra-te,” Sensei Doug demonstrates. “Carrot-y,” I parrot back. “No, … Read more

The White Room

July 2, 2019

by ROBERT GADKEY Otis Covington uncrossed his legs and swiveled in the brown leather chair, sliding his worn athletic socks underneath the gray tanker desk. He wore a standard uniform: faded blue jeans that tapered in at the ankle and … Read more

Half-Blind Dog

June 1, 2019

by AMY HENRY There isn’t much to say, I tell folks when they ask about the events of last June. How it was that Eva Lewis, my caretaker at the Sheridan House Adult Care Center, and Jordan Reed, her boyfriend … Read more

Colors, Earrings, Beautiful Things

May 1, 2019

by PHILLIP JONES Teresa’s father is keeping company with the santo he is carving, San Juan Nepomuceno, martyred for not sharing a queen’s confession, now the patron of secrets and silence. A gentle man who married late, Filemón has little patience … Read more

Teacups

April 1, 2019

by DAN PINKERTON At the Missouri line they encountered a giant red fireworks barn sitting just off I-35 with elaborate signage made to look like lit roman candles. Even from a distance the place looked vulgar and hazardous, so Ted … Read more

Yin

March 18, 2019

by PAULANN PETERSEN You’d think water’s female aspect would be a pond, a lake—deep, reflective, still, taking the sun and moon and clouds onto its slick-shimmered skin. Wrong. You would be dead wrong. Being a woman, I know at least … Read more

Papa’s Gifts

March 1, 2019

by SANDRA HEADEN At eight months, Lena’s belly was as big as four watermelons. Must be twins, all the women said. Miss Annabelle, the town midwife, was sure they’d be boys. Lena hoped for girls, with nary a trace of … Read more

After My Mother Died

March 1, 2019

by HEATHER SELLERS She slept in my bone body for three years. My missing her a lonely hush. My grief a gold thing I carried as a ring, immanent. And now I see her in various cars, in thin blue … Read more

The Tour Bus

February 1, 2019

by MARYELLEN BEVERIDGE The lobster boat idled against the floating dock, smelling of diesel fuel. Its engine sputtered above the quiescent brown-green water of the bay as a crewman, pulling a length of rope, leapt onto the dock and fastened … Read more

The Cry Room

December 26, 2018

by SHARON BARRETT Of the people who knew her, few would have said of Cathy Richards that she was spirited. At twenty-two, she was married with three children and another on the way; she appeared to be firmly on the … Read more