STORY OF THE WEEK

Spot the Stations By Pascha Sotolongo

Spot the Stations

By Pascha Sotolongo
Abuelita says people who stare at the sky all the time are obsessed with God. I don’t know what I’m obsessed with, but I do know I want out.

POEM OF THE WEEK

How to Read a Poem By Madeline Miele

How to Read a Poem

By Madeline Miele
Slant light, girdle of dark clouds not nearing the center. Everything becomes. The thing about the body—it ends. Takes no time at all.

FALL STORY CONTEST

FALL STORY CONTEST

We’re looking for short stories, essays, memoirs, photo essays, graphic stories, and excerpts from long fiction and nonfiction.

Please see the Guidelines.

FROM THE LIBRARY

Fame By Arthur Miller

Fame

By Arthur Miller
Meyer wondered again at all the airplanes, kitchen tables, dentists’ offices, and trains where people would be staring at his face on the cover.

NARRATIVE PRIZE WINNER

FICTION

NARRATIVE PRIZE WINNER

October Phone Call and Other Poems By Madeleine Cravens

October Phone Call and Other Poems

By Madeleine Cravens
My loneliness is not less because I understand it more, or because I have condoned it. Mist and roads in all directions.

FICTION

Any Good Child By Tryphena L. Yeboah

Any Good Child

By Tryphena L. Yeboah
I’m convinced that Ma wants me to see, needs me to step into her world and learn its songs but never actually dance to its tune until it’s time.

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Rounds, a poem By Rhoni BlankenhornIntroduced by Paisley Rekdal

Rounds, a poem

By Rhoni Blankenhorn
Introduced by Paisley Rekdal
I knew about the guns Dad kept beneath the bed. Brassy bullets fell against the floral comforter like little candies.

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Pa’ la Calle, a story By Lily PhilpottIntroduced by Morgan Talty

Pa’ la Calle, a story

By Lily Philpott
Introduced by Morgan Talty
I knew in the dream that I was a condor in the shape of a girl, and I drank in the thin mountain air until my human lungs ached with it.

NARRATIVE 10

NARRATIVE OUTLOUD

NARRATIVE 10

Narrative 10 By Matthew Zapruder

Narrative 10

By Matthew Zapruder
I actually remember writing in a green diary I had when I was thirteen: “When you get older, don’t forget how bad it feels when adults don’t listen to kids.”

NARRATIVE OUTLOUD

The Transit of Venus By Shirley Hazzard

The Transit of Venus

By Shirley Hazzard
An exclusive excerpt of actor Juliet Stevenson reading Shirley Hazzard’s The Transit of Venus with an introduction from our own Carol Edgarian.

CARTOONS

CARTOONS

CARTOONS

Cartoon Art Volume 2024-09 By Various Artists

Cartoon Art Volume 2024-09

By Various Artists
New laughs with an uncertain generation, an unexpected promotion, a revelation at the pearly gates, and more.

CARTOONS

Cartoon Art Volume 2024-08 By Various Artists

Cartoon Art Volume 2024-08

By Various Artists
New laughs with a fishily amorous reflection, the persistence an old habit, an impressively singular bookshelf, and more.

POETRY

POETRY

POETRY

Anniversary of You By Mark Kyungsoo Bias

Anniversary of You

By Mark Kyungsoo Bias
I’ve taken in the highway and the see-through reflection of my own face. It’s funny watching the people pass through it.

POETRY

That By Chris Dombrowski

That

By Chris Dombrowski
That we have tea to drink. That late-winter sunlight streams through the living room windows. That the dog has a bed to sleep on or a couch if he prefers.

POETRY

POETRY

POETRY

Hunan Wishes By Daniel Halpern

Hunan Wishes

By Daniel Halpern
With the moon half in shadow we spin these inner moons of the earth on the sprigs of fire focused under the tempered carbon steel of the wok.

POETRY

The Free Tower By Ted Kooser

The Free Tower

By Ted Kooser
Behind her I slowly climbed, passing through a life’s history of all her odors, those years now happening all over again as I climbed through them.

POETRY

POETRY

POETRY

Brothel By Edward Salem

Brothel

By Edward Salem
I walked to the olive grove and stood among the trees, trying to memorize my awe. I stood among them as if in a brothel and inhaled the wind.

POETRY

Still Life with a Seashell and Dr. Caligari By Alex Tretbar

Still Life with a Seashell and Dr. Caligari

By Alex Tretbar
Say I were to say, “Say something.” Or, “It’s blue, the shape of the air unable to escape.”