Issue 13.1 – Nonfiction

The clouds looked thick like a thousand wet cotton balls glued together in the sky. My brother and I drove five hours through the Tennessee cold to arrive at an open field with a barn-style home in the front. He flicked the last of his cigarette out of the window of our shared Honda Accord…

Issue 12.4 – Nonfiction

“Mamas always come back,” my daughter’s new preschool teacher whispered to a sobbing little girl on their first day. Inside the classroom, my daughter stared at her sobbing classmate and squeezed my hand tight. My daughter was anxious, too. As I’d sat with her at bedtime the night before, she’d asked dozens of questions about…

Issue 12.3 – Nonfiction

“My period started again,” I said, passing by my husband, Dyami, in our living room. By “again”, I meant two days after it finished. He sat watching TV, but looked up at me with concern. “You okay?” he asked, muting the sound. “I’m fine,” I said. I tried to pretend I believed that. Saying “fine”…

Issue 12.1 – Nonfiction

I was the last person to see him alive. It was a typical Friday night. All of my friends were at the football game, and I was working my usual shift at Burger King. Somehow I was the one poor kid in my peer group that had to work, it wasn’t just for character building….

Issue 11.5 – Nonfiction

The first thing I always thought about was the adventure I would have in the forest. It was back in the early 2000’s when I used to play on the fields of my father’s farm in Pennsylvania. I can recall it vividly. There was nothing but a vast open space of green. A wide pond…

Issue 11.4 – Nonfiction

5 “To disappear” becomes a transitive verb. For example: “La migra disappeared six people last week.” 4 Había una vez, the verdant plaza at the center of town thrummed with life.  Students spilled from the nearby community college, flinging Frisbees y pateando pelotas, chasing rare golden sunbeams and, catching one, collapsing bonelessly in the grass. …

Issue 11.3 – Nonfiction

She twists the lever, easing it gently past its usual sticking point, finally succeeding with a sudden jerk in opening the window to the mild breeze outside.  On a mission, she can only afford a glance at the emerald of the redwoods and the celadon of the bays, at the bits of blue sky and…

Issue 11.2 – Nonfiction

Existential crisis. A crisis of existence. I worked at a bottle shop at thirty-three, five months shy of turning thirty-four. I didn’t give two shits about booze going up or down a dollar, which it tended to do more than you’d want to know. I didn’t care about people having enough money or too much…

Issue 11.1 – Nonfiction

Adeline ran the kitchen at Wheatland Memorial Hospital and Nursing Home. Even when she wasn’t there, her place seemed understood. Adeline had started working at the hospital in 1975, the year I was born, and by the time I came to work there sixteen years later, she was firmly entrenched in the routine of a…

Issue 10.4 – Nonfiction

The first time I held my daughter only one thought went through my mind: how did I ever create something so beautiful? I was thirty-four when I had Harper and until I met my husband just two years before, I wanted nothing to do with motherhood. To me being a parent meant the end of…