Foundations – Sara Landers
When my parents were getting divorced, my father told me that he never loved me. I was sixteen. My mother...
When my parents were getting divorced, my father told me that he never loved me. I was sixteen. My mother...
There was no lipstick on my collar; no cartoonish smell lines of someone else’s perfume. There was a ghost, though,...
The door let out a pleasant chirp as they entered, a twirl of giggles and unbrushed hair, swirling together like...
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Rachel Wyman is a dancer and creative arts therapist from Walla Walla, Washington. She resides in...
Yes, you were intense as incense, both elegance and coherence, a bull to my china shop, the red to my...
The boy with the amblyopic squint and his aunt are in the fields, furrowing dirt banks around wilted dwarf apple...
The spiders in my room are growing. They keep the mosquito population in check. Smeared corpses speckle my walls. My...
I’d like to go no further than I can throw a stone, no higher than my head, no faster than...
Pain comes on soft cat feet, curls up on my lower belly, waits until its weight becomes intolerable ...
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