For this anniversary issue we’ve decided to dig into our own hippocampus—where those fond memories are stored—and dig out some gems from the archives.
Tag: best of issue
A Graveside Nuptial by Sean Finucane Toner
The streets in New Hope, Pennsylvania are tree-lined, the restaurants have charm, the engagement rings we finally choose are hand-crafted. But how closely does what I feel match what she sees?
Right-Sized Rats by Deirdre Sinnott
Inside their terrarium, Jake and Elwood, my sister’s boa constrictors, form a braid around a dried tree branch. I stare in at them.
My First Trip Truckin’ by Chris Cox
After three weeks of training, a period my classmates and I called Truck U., I had to pass two tests (written and driving) to earn a commercial driver’s license.
The Reluctant Grown-up by Fred Amram
In 1938 I was five years old and I could already feel my childhood slipping away. Mutti first noticed my developing maturity one day when a loud demanding knock frightened her. Mutti’s face tightened and she pursed her lips. The Victorian pallor, in which she prided herself, seemed especially white. We both looked at the door as if awaiting a miracle.
Switched at Midlife by Sharon Carmack
I wasn’t expecting another daughter. I was expecting a mother. But there comes a point when mothers and daughters switch roles. Her voice on the phone: “Hello, Sharon? This is your daughter.” I smile. “No,” I say. “I’m your daughter. You’re my mother.”
Debbie Did by Deborah Thompson
Forty-seven years ago my parents named me Debbie. The birth certificate says Deborah, but the intention was always Debbie. They said the name was unusual at the time, and that their choice had nothing to do with Debbie Reynolds. It was a good Jewish name—but not too Jewish. It just felt right.
Flat Rate Archives by Mary-Colleen Jenkins
The boxes are sitting on my Seattle steps, bright white against the dark, mildew-stained stairs. I heft them up; they’re surprisingly heavy. I elbow my way inside the front door and drop them on the table with a thump. The red and blue lettering reveals nothing about what’s inside, though I have my suspicions.
Firsts by Nathan Evans
The first time I kissed a girl, it all happened—the way defining events sometimes do—at four in the morning. We were in a student room the size of a large packing crate facing on to what might have been Oxford’s most modern and least lovely quadrangle.
Holy Tribunal by Jane Hammons
When I open the envelope containing a notice from the Diocese of Oakland that my EX of several years has petitioned for a Declaration of Invalidity, my first reaction is to laugh and toss the paperwork into the recycling bin. But the words toll like solemn bells throughout the day. Ecclesitasticum, Ajudication, Decree of Constitution. In the grip of the language as I had been some twenty years ago when I made the mistake of converting to Catholicism, I retrieve the paperwork.