Owning
On a sunny autumn day in 1978, my then-husband, wearing his investment-banker suit, walked in the front door of our two-story stucco home...
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ALL CREATIVE NONFICTION, FLASH FICTION & POEMS
REBECCA NELSON
Healing Is A Process
It was an innocent question. Just a random question, which in a different place and a different time with a different person would’ve led...
CATHERINE BOEBEL GROTENHUIS
IN DI V IS I BLE
“Gramzie?” “Yeah, Honey?” I pause to wait for my granddaughter, Onyx, who has stopped several yards behind me in our alley. She’s...
MARY DAVINI
Leap
Today I gave my afternoon to a grasshopper. I felt his armor vibrate in tight tension against the concrete until the ridged mountains of...
KAYLA GRAY
Jacouman's Planetarium
The deep bass of an uncle’s voice, who is long gone, sings to me the guide of constellations. Where an old man takes me to freedom, in...
JANNA KNITTEL
Kcatta Cinap
We glibly say, I’ve lost my mind, but few Have really seen it go. Me, I was ten. I couldn’t tell concrete from quicksand when A cavalry...
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