Serial – Little River – Chapter 11

* New to Little River or behind in reading? Find all the previous chapters here.   “Jonathan?” Titus was surprised to find his brother standing on his doorstep. “Hey.” Jonathan had both hands plunged into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He hadn’t shaved in days. Titus stepped back to let his brother come into the house, and…

Book Review – My Antonia

Willa Cather’s powerful novel offers with each read a freshness and colorful view of life, tolerance, and feminine existence; this review by Sangeetha Bharath intends to pay homage to the tale on its 100th anniversary, addressing its delicate complexities without revealing too much of the story.  My Ántonia by Willa Cather I did not grow up…

The Little Things – MicroWork

The Weight of Waiting The altar of my heart collapsed             Under the weight                  Of waiting. Yania is a Puerto Rican bruja/writer/artist and suicide prevention advocate/SME. Her work has been published and/or featured in Aberration Labyrinth, Tupelo Press 30/30 project, The Write Launch,…

A Word from the Editor

Welcome to Issue 5.3—a truly international issue! We have work today representing writers from Canada, England, and Germany. We are excited to bring you three fantastic pieces by these talented women writers. Katie Flynn brings us a heart-wrenching essay called “Before I was Mom”. Philippa East’s short story “Dearest Miss Mills” will be sure to…

Issue 5.3 – Nonfiction

I am twenty-three years old, and I’m in love. I love my boyfriend. I’ve known him since grade nine, and he loves me. I can’t believe he loves me. It’s so important that he loves me because I don’t love myself enough. I’m shy and his love makes up for it. His laughter and games…

Issue 5.3 – Fiction

It’s 11:05 a.m., which means fifty-five minutes till the post is due. I’m in the kitchen, waiting, leaning right forward over the draining board. Through the window, I watch the windsock the weather-mad neighbours across the way have stuck up in their garden, a heavy canvas thing hanging right over their fence. Right now it’s…

Issue 5.3 – Poetry

  You said I was like milk, like a baby Protected not by strength but innocence I was afraid I’d never know what it feels like to be loved Now I am afraid of you   And you stay and stand confused In anticipation of disarray. Nobody to save your fragile soul For you chose…

Serial – Little River – Chapter 10

* New to Little River or behind in reading? Find all the previous chapters here. “I didn’t think you were coming.” Megan narrowed her eyes at Caleb as he approached her. She was sitting on the steps of her Papaw’s front porch. “I thought you were standing me up for the second time in a row.” Caleb could…

Book Review – Ants Among Elephants

Ants Among Elephants: An Untouchable Family and the Making of Modern India by Sujatha Gidla I often think about how to explain caste to an outsider, and I always fall back on “It’s like racism, except it is not based on the colour of your skin.” This is the line of reasoning the author takes…

The Little Things – MicroWork

fair trade i was too willing to give him the world if he would only keep me in it. Elizabeth Erhartic is a young writer in Charlotte, North Carolina, whose passions include travel, animals, writing, and beautiful differences. A lover of words, she enjoys expression through writing and has previously been published in Broad River Review, After the…

A Word from the Editor

Welcome to Issue 5.2! This week, we’re excited to bring you three fantastic pieces by three talented women writers. We know you will enjoy the narrative nonfiction piece “Marriage” by Judith Crosland, an interview by Leslie Leonard with her mother, and the poem “My Ego” by Marie Lance. We would love to publish more interviews…

Issue 5.2 – Nonfiction

  THE RED-COATED luggage wallah wedges my bag under seat number 23C.  I push a folded one hundred rupee note into his rough brown hand and he is off. The train shunts forward; we’re on our way. Seated, I catch my breath, lean my head back against the green formica wall, close my eyes and…