I smooth her feathers from neck to wing and wonder if there is a definitive way to tell that a chicken is dead.
Water and Light by Hannah van Didden
Category: Essays
Vee Dubya by Christy Lynch
My dad drank. That’s the nice way of putting it, I guess—“He drank,” as if it might mean just the once.
Swimming With Headscarf Ladies by Kirsten Voris
Too sick to leave home, I flop in my sheets like something beached and dying. After weeks of illness, I pine for fresh air. An apartment with a bathtub.
Women Without Names by B. Richard Wright
As we spoke, drank, and watched the busy street with its mix of sailors, marines, and locals milling about, a black van stopped in front of us…
The Improbability of Me (and You) by David R. Bowne
This is about math, plain and simple, and biology, not at all plain and not at all simple.
Helix by Anne Gudger
Bare feet in the cool of sand. We stood almost pinky toe to pinky toe, pale pink polish (hers) to cobalt blue (mine).
Taunting the Abyss by Y.L. Fein
Cancer drove me. Seven years after the event I still couldn’t say the word. Neither could my friends, at least not to my face.
Baptism by Fire by Gwen Erkonen
My pager alarms and the number in the display is one I’ve never seen before.
Pulp by Sarah Morris
No fingers or toes or pupils or teeth or hair. Just a heartbeat. Supposedly.
Some Sort of Union by Nina Boutsikaris
When she woke in the air force paramedic’s bed, a weak, warm light was spilling through the narrow window that spanned the length of the bedroom.
