Apparently there was to be a thunder-storm, and afterwards a cold continuous rain. The creeping things seemed to know all about the later rain, but little of the interpolated thunder-storm.
POEM OF THE WEEK
POEM OF THE WEEK
Kronos
By Joshua Mehigan
If there are two and if they’re unaware that I am there, they meet each other in the passage, pause as if exchanging news, then go their own ways home.
SPRING STORY CONTEST
SPRING 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.
18th ANNUAL POETRY CONTEST
18th ANNUAL POETRY CONTEST
“Poetry is a matter of life, not just a matter of language,” wrote Lucille Clifton, and we couldn’t agree more. We’re looking for work that moves with intention, that reveals something we didn’t know we were missing.
Please see the Guidelines.
FICTION
FICTION
If the Body Makes a Sound
By Tryphena L. Yeboah
How painful is childbirth? Chichi let the words out so easily, as though she were talking about the weather. When her mother finally spoke, she said, As painful as death. I won’t lie to you.
FICTION
FICTION
FICTION
FICTION
Boulder City
By T. C. Boyle
Four words—Your mother passed away—coming at him from the realm of anonymity, the lips of a stranger speaking through the inert slab of a phone hundreds of miles away.
FICTION
FICTION
The Red Shoes
By Lavanya Vasudevan
We thought for a long time that it was only a child’s exuberance, the kind most of us had left years behind, the irresistible desire to jump and run, even in a sacred space.
HIGH SCHOOL CONTEST WINNER
POETRY
HIGH SCHOOL CONTEST WINNER
HIGH SCHOOL CONTEST WINNER
No, but I once got very close
By Michelle Li
That was the year I kept talking
to myself: I am good I am good I want to be loved.
By you, I mean.
POETRY
POETRY
Monologue of a Ghost
By David Mason
I stood in laced boots. My foot felt strong. I had that feeling of being young again, immortal, wearing a magic war shirt.
POETRY
POETRY
POETRY
That Spring
By Lo Naylor
spring came all the same. announced itself like a woodpecker on bark. my heart barked in my chest. each morning, I didn’t dare go back to sleep—couldn’t bear to wake twice.
What My Father Taught Me about the Snow
By Chelsea Woodard
Rest your left wrist lightly on the steering wheel to guide the car, because in this plummeting weather there is nothing to do but lean in.
CARTOONS
GRAPHIC STORY
CARTOONS
CARTOONS
Cartoon Art Volume 2026-04
By Various Artists
Enjoy the humor of Suzy Becker, Kyle Bravo, Pat Byrnes, Kaamran Hafeez, and Dan Misdea.
GRAPHIC STORY
GRAPHIC STORY
My Father
By Shannon Wheeler
In 1967 he adopted an Open Land Policy: anyone who wanted could come and live for free.
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