Starr Davis Strange Fruits My grandma keeps a bowl of oranges on her counter. Petite, luscious mandarins. They always…
Browsing: prose
Heather Lanier Origin Story with Porcelain Duck In my hand is a porcelain duck with turquoise eyes that look…
Kristine Kopperud When you ask if I miss Dad I know you’re asking if he was ever even here,…
Donna Peizer The Haircut “Lisa,” I want you to get your hair cut,” I said for the umpteenth time…
Sally Quon Bad Mom I should have left the night I told him I was pregnant, when he beat…
Jamie Etheridge We are (not) fish tales She can’t breathe and I can’t breathe because we are underwater. Only…
Hess Love Crab Cakes Supposedly Hester was out of her mind, however, she was also brilliant. Hester made…
Susanna Rich Knock on Wood, Grandmother Mumchy taught me, if anyone says anything good. And not just any wood. …
DW McKinney Sun Tea When the dust storms dwindle and the air is thick with heat, I pull a…
Linen Hankies by Sarah W. Bartlett Mutti, we called her. That’s the equivalent of “Mom” in German. A title we…