Creative Commons image by ArtsyBee via Pixabay

Dot Tires of Everyone Assuming She’s Straight

by Erin Elizabeth Smith
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Storm Clouds Over the State of Louisiana

by Susannah Breslin

1 They were sitting on the back porch. She had moved into this place the day before. He had a glass of wine in his hand. The weeds were overgrown. He was supposed to have moved in here, but he hadn’t. She was alone. Too bad, she thought. She wasn’t sure she meant it. She […]

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Two Poems by Brittney Corrigan

by Brittney Corrigan
Storm Chasers Daughter by Brittney Corrigan
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Range Folding (Populus)

by John A. Nieves

“We’re making our weather with a lone light bulb.” — Blake Schwarzenbach

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The Magician

by JL Higgs

In early 1860’s Virginia, Samuel was a rare thing, a free Negro. Rarer still, he was not a farmer, tradesman, or manual laborer. He was a magician in the tradition of Henry “Box” Brown and his talent came as natural to him as breathing. Samuel hadn’t known his parents, Hezekiah and Hannah. Both  had been […]

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Little Pitchers Have Big Ears

by Rachel Toliver

Emily always knew that her second cousin, Paul Williams, could die from Africa. Snakes susurrated along the rafters of his house. Malarial mosquitoes brandished dread proboscises; alligators opened their mechanical mouths. And—the prayer letters reminded them—disease was everywhere. In the Kuluva hospital, Paul’s father, David, plucked bullets from soldiers. He helped the lepers, who had […]

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Far Aberdare

by Paul Yoder

When Donna asked me to come to far-flung Aberdare, I thought about the trees in the nighttime – those burnt-bone-looking monsters that made folks huddle together. In the old days, we’d gather around fires at night, all facing the fire, and, incidentally, each other, and we’d speak. When you see the trees at night, you […]

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Pablo Escobar’s Hippos

by Jane Hammons
Photo by Patrick Gijsbers via Wikimedia

  The blue-eyed plecostomus will not eat shit, and they will not eat driftwood covered in shit. It is unfortunate that submerged wood sustains them because Pablo Escobar’s hippos unload turd after constant turd, coating the driftwood of the Magdalena River, native habitat of the blue-eyed plecostomus who will not eat their shit. They’d rather […]

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