
I will never visit Heal the Man Church.
Nadder!
Nix!
“Why not?” They ask.
Why not when the whole neighbourhood’s up and running, arising and shining, singing, Thou Art Holy Lord, as they proceed to Heal the Man Church where …
I will never visit Heal the Man Church.
Nadder!
Nix!
“Why not?” They ask.
Why not when the whole neighbourhood’s up and running, arising and shining, singing, Thou Art Holy Lord, as they proceed to Heal the Man Church where …
Sharon and I spent the morning re-organizing my kitchen cupboards. “Downsizing,” she called it. We tossed out a plethora of kitchen gadgets; a pressure cooker, a Dutch oven, and three small glass Coke bottles. “From the last century,” she said. …
Fay and Jeannie are best friends. You might not know it if you approached them in the hall.
Jeannie would be looking down at the floor, maybe peaking up at you with her head down and her eyes raised. A kind …
The slave catchers never stopped chasing us. They followed my brother and I all throughout Virginia. Miles of forests, torrential rains, and wild boars weren’t enough to make the catchers give up. Years of beatings and being used as tools …
Another negative test.
Maybe the doctors were wrong.
Fingers crossed.
Anya Barlett (she/her) is a writer formerly from the Finger Lakes New York. She currently lives on Susquehannock land with her partner and adopted cat. Previously her poetry has appeared in SUNY college literary …
You wake up and the red numbers on the clock show 1:26. The room is a thick black, a dim light shines through the crack at the bottom of the bedroom door, and your husband is sound asleep. You know …
Did my parents name me Laya hoping I’d exude an incorrigible love of life, a hunger for its cadences? Be New Delhi’s bonne vivante?
Laya, meter or tempo, and swar, notes, combine to make up Indian classical music.
A steady …
The people of Salo had been gathering since the early morning hours, anxious to catch a glimpse or photograph of one of our riders before the big race. As we sat on our bike racks, our metal and carbon frames …
Back in Antigua. Mezcal on the rocks. Waiting for her.
Taylor Dibbert is author of the Peace Corps memoir “Fiesta of Sunset.” He’s seeking representation for his first novel.…
I used to have this dog when I lived in North Carolina. The cutest little thing. Small, but acted tough when he needed to, you know? He was such a good dog that I would let him go out and …