Category: January-February 2021

Indian Clinic by Josh Parish

Here in this lobby, waiting for my name, I’m aware of my pale face.

“You nod like you know what I’m talking about,” our workshop teacher, the famous novelist, says

The mashed fabric … matched hue to hue my own color, and when I put it on it felt like I was wrapping myself in me.

As he circled the bright fields, I imagine him whispering the name he gave me: Little Lily.

My parents came for a visit so my husband Phil and I could attend a wedding about two hours away.

…they were not children’s authors. They were regular people, which meant they had no need to render themselves appealing to their own children.

She begins to count. Rhythmically. Softly. “One, two, three,” until she reaches thirty or so.

My dad’s wallet is empty except for the ten dollars I tuck inside when he’s not looking.

“Learn the rules, so you can break them.” It’s an adage that’s so well-worn in the creative writing community that it is a cliché

…it was like a Japanese restaurant in which everyone shrieks “Irasshaimase!” every time the front door opens.

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