Authors

Fiction

Her body had become a scale, a device for measuring grief.

Fiction

The door opened, and Dan stormed in, shouting, “Motherfuckers!”

Narrative 10

It helped me free myself from a longtime source of unhappiness.

Fiction

“Bo? I need you to be a big boy now,” she said. “Are you ready?"

Story of the Week

It’s like having your parents in the room. Patrolling our sleep, our sex life.

Story of the Week

I had promised my children to end the war before they grew up.

Poetry

I want him to remember me hanging on his crosshairs.

Six-Word Stories

The author reflects on a soldier‘s experience, in just six words.

Short Shorts

I’m recalling his socks, the inked initials, the splashes of blood.

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Fiction

This itchy voice, this desperate chant, that begs: okay. Okay.

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Poetry

With a hammer well aimed, try to destroy the whole with a single blow.

Poem of the Week

The moon rescinds its blessing, rests its forehead on a crosier of ivory.

Story of the Week

For the first two months of class, Toby did barely any writing at all.

Story of the Week

The rifle slams into my shoulder. Smoke pummels the air.

Story of the Week

Crescencia knew that it was a sin to be in love with a married man.

Fall Contest Winners

The transformation of their maid from shadow to sexpot thrills Maizie.

Nonfiction

I care only about the little body wiggling in that plastic bassinet.

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Nonfiction

Six other guests smoked Marlboro Lights, and ashtrays filled up.

Nonfiction

He said he had come back to the prison because it was home.

Nonfiction

He could see I was American, but I thought he was unlikely to harm me.

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First & Second Looks

The question of love was a dark hole into which Lucy swam daily.

Story of the Week

“Are all the girls really beautiful? Is it true you make out in the showers?”

Story of the Week

Papa’s link to that pond was a matter of blood. And the delicious carp.

Story of the Week

From the flight deck Gray could see home, wherever that might be.

Poem of the Week

He told me that he knows a parent’s grief for a dead child.

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Nonfiction

I drank every night until late and drew earth-shaking conclusions.

Story of the Week

Having his ex-wife in the house was a distraction. He forgot to grieve.

Story of the Week

Sometimes the phone would ring and ring, and I’d go answer. It was him.

Story of the Week

You put his hand around your throat but he keeps moving it away.

Story of the Week

She had not anticipated that the nightstands would be an issue.

Poem of the Week

Wrists will twist or twirl while the hand writes the wriest writs—lamps-lit.

Poem of the Week

A real or imagined boundary, crossed. End of the line. Lined out.

Narrative “Tell Me A Story” High School Contest
Poetry

Here is the fat guy whose Chihuahua gnawed through his stomach.

Poem of the Week

I blush whenever that room in Ensenada comes to mind.

Poem of the Week

I couldn’t wait. By the time you return it would’ve rotted on the vine.

Poem of the Week

They taught us do not touch it, but who can keep from touching it?

Photography & Art

Eros, myth, life, and literature in brilliant paintings by Lincoln Perry.

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Nonfiction

This is all there is. Nothing else. No heaven and no hell, okay?

Readers' Narratives
Readers' Narratives

My father said he didn’t believe in the afterlife, in God, or Jesus either.

Photography & Art

Lambert started to cry and said he was sure there was a God.

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Story of the Week

Both dogs were barking now—their barking urgent, hysterically pitched.

Fiction

He picked up the knife I had there, and said he’d kill me if ever I told.

Story of the Week

What’s the harm? Will you fight even the healing powers of love?

N30B Winners

How’s everything? It’s been forever! Things with me are pretty good.

Features

A letter is like a poem, showing the marks of an unwilling composer.

Six-Word Stories
N30B Winners

Fresh from Texas. She has the head of a girl & a serpent’s body.

Fiction

No woman he’d ever been with responded so unmistakably.

Interviews

Whether or not I’m working on the book, the book is working on me.

Narrative Outloud

Sam was like family. He was the angel of my writing life in every word.

Interviews

Jayne Anne Phillips recalls her friend, the legendary Sam Lawrence.

Nonfiction

Time, now more than ever, is of the essence. Time is all there is.

Fiction

Poems and stories are the whisperings of angels we cannot see.

Nonfiction

Their house is what I see when I look up from my notebook.

Poem of the Week

She stared back at me, a toddler almost hidden in the folds of her skirt.

iPoems

Someday you’ll understand, darling. Everyone will just—vanish!

Poetry

She commands, under her breath, You must be the son.

Story of the Week

I’d done what no woman of my race and social station had ever done.

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Story of the Week

After seventeen years we’re parting ways. Breakups hurt, even this one.

iStories

Mark looked down at the fortune cookie as if it were a summons.

iStories

Rina Piccolo

iStories

Was that lipstick on Don’s cheek? This was too much for her to take.

iStories

She looks at them through eyes flattened by a confused life.

Graphic Stories

I hope you weren’t reverse-bookmarking everyone.

Story of the Week

Had he been a man, we could’ve saved his life right then and there.

Poem of the Week

He came into town with his big red pen and began revising us.

Poetry

This morning drifts of sand hissed along the shore like mist.

Poetry

The fires in the hills signify nothing more than their own wonder.

Poem of the Week

You come hot, marching between one blazing Arab & one crazy Jew.

Story of the Week

“Tell me about the things you can’t tell me about when I’m dressed.”

Story of the Week

Even before bills and rent and adultery—you don’t sleep well.

Story of the Week

Mark was spending his life with one of the world’s weaklings.

Fiction

“You mean to fall in love with your wife while I’m gone,” she said.

Six-Word Stories

A political tragedy you won’t lose any sleep over, told in just six words.

Poem of the Week

I am almost never standing in the ocean, not that way, not anymore.

Poetry

I’m from Boston, is that why I imagine Fredrick’s emotions for him?

Poetry

That year, the mail would arrive as white as warning, as flashing teeth.

Poem of the Week

Four wings of silk without a trace of dust perched upon a silken line.

Poem of the Week

If I bring the wrong pen the words look like snow piles on an empty page.

Poetry

He doesn’t notice the cop car rolling slow-motion into the station.

Winter Contest Winners

Blacked-out little angel, you shuffle home under the streetlights.

Story of the Week

Out by the road was her son standing without a stitch of clothing.

Fall Contest Winners

My sister’s fever wasn’t gone at all, but dazzling— suspended over us.

Fiction

He was warm that way, always tender, and maybe that’s the worst part.

Fiction

He longed only for Claire’s strange seriousness, her silent focus.

Poetry

Desire whittled me a tool I’d never seen but knew how to use.

Poem of the Week

Language seems accomplice to grieving, everything dissolves.

N30B Winners

Life, then, was song and purple font, imagining in words a future.

Poem of the Week

’Tis with our judgments as our watches, none go just alike.

Story of the Week

The first time she’d touched his body, it had been like going back in time.

Story of the Week

At the moment we were having that conversation, she already knew.

Classics

Was he taking them to the races? If so, they were happy to see him.

Story of the Week

A whippoorwill called, a lonely voice among the cedars.

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Fiction

All right. We are perfect. Tomorrow we will make a million dollars.

Readers' Narratives

I doubted that I would wring any kind of apology, large or small.

N30B Winners

Tomorrow I’ll be ratted out about the hunting, but I knew it’d be worth it.

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Story of the Week

“Oh, Jesus.” It’s the greatest shame since 1929’s stock market.

iStories

Xin Bao had gotten drunk and stolen a hyacinth macaw.

Story of the Week

At the copier, her back to him, running off copies, was Penny Ayler.

Poem of the Week

He says the word robbery and you don’t know if he’s asking or telling.

Poetry

I let the baby mouse live because I cannot kill what has ears.

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Poem of the Week

It’s like listening to the snow falling before sticking out your tongue.

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Winter Contest Winners

She remembers that golden ocean, the promise of a whole new land.

Narrative Outloud

She remembers that golden ocean, the promise of a whole new land.

Poem of the Week

Are you there? I couldn’t tell you about the time I saw the deer.

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Classics

In three years he had made her forget that blindness meant not seeing.

Story of the Week

A dangerous heat came from him, the heat of some interior decay.

Fiction

Strangely, this may have been the first time I really saw anyone’s face.

iPoems

I could untie Minnie’s silk, restitch it into places I’ve lived.

Poetry

I have so many T-cells I’m afraid of forgetting their names.

Poem of the Week

At night everything feels. Even a river feels its way through the woods.

Story of the Week

His looks were Russian. He was surrounded by mystery.

Story of the Week

In a few days the troops were to go further on. I left the next day.

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N30B Winners

Fishing with Dad guaranteed two days of just us and made me special.