SWEETNESS by Tina Kimbrell

On the morning that she died, I don’t think I knew that it was the day that we would stop waiting. We were just going to her bedside, as we did. As we had done for days. Suspended in that grief fog, gritty and spinning. 

Continue Reading...

SMOKE AND FISH by Uyen P. Dang

At first everyone blamed the smoke on the war, then the steel plant, and, finally, the water. But Ong Hai says it’s not water but grief at the bottom of the sea.

Continue Reading...

JUST THE EDGES by Molly Wadzeck Kraus

Rolling down the window, I decipher through the breeze, Listen, I think we need to stop this. Hours ago, you had my breasts in your hands. OK, whatever, it’s fine, I said.

Continue Reading...

UBËR by Mitch Russell

People—and I mean even absolute strangers—they’ll just talk and talk and talk and they expect you to listen to their whole life story. Have you ever experienced this? Do you know what I mean?

Continue Reading...