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...
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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, Mae wore pink onesies and couldn’t yet talk. She lived with her mother at the end of the road, and they...
What made me want him? That supple, brutal kingsnake of a boy, wine-lipped and longhaired.
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.
The doctor delivers the diagnosis. He tells Gulisa, ‘It could be worse.’
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.
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.
We were always trying to get her attention. ‘Your mother is busy,’ said our father. ‘She is an important woman.’
This hurts a lot, but it’s true. It is astral projection gone wrong.