This Editor’s Note has three parts. As with all of my Editor’s Notes, I ask that you daydream while you read it. My students are often delighted...
Prose
Browse submissions from past editions, web exclusive content, author Q&A, and more.
Before | Joy Baglio
Let’s talk about the fairy godmother, before. At this point, she is just a woman, still relatively young, approaching her life’s precipice,...
The First Time that the Trees Began to Walk | Wendy Dinwiddie
The first time that the trees began to walk, Mae wore pink onesies and couldn’t yet talk. She lived with her mother at the end of the road, and they...
The Listening Tree
What made me want him? That supple, brutal kingsnake of a boy, wine-lipped and longhaired.
Genie in Pieces
Father is the name for what guards the front door. The world outside is full of noise. A truck, a lawnmower, a dog, and then another.
Avenue
The doctor delivers the diagnosis. He tells Gulisa, ‘It could be worse.’
Diptych: The Bunch, Your Duck/Dog
One day, we came home from a walk in the woods and found something waiting for us. It wasn’t a this, or a that, or a they; it was a bunch.
Of Humankind
On a dirt street, in a one-room shack with a rain-tempered roof, lived a woman who sold sex to the workers of her district, and she did this because of all the ways one made money in the hard-mouthed world, this was the easiest for her.
Homecoming
We were always trying to get her attention. ‘Your mother is busy,’ said our father. ‘She is an important woman.’
In Which Hansel Is Gretel and Gretel Is Hansel
This hurts a lot, but it’s true. It is astral projection gone wrong.
