The Myth of an Unknown Girl by Heain Joung It was summer. We were going to go on a day trip to the sea. “There is no need to bring food,” my father said. “We will pick up seashells when…
I Am Held in the Hands of God Who Is Named Walter Potter
I Am Held in the Hands of God Who Is Named Walter Potter; or, from the Case of ‘The Death and Burial of Cock Robin’ by Elou Carroll I am born again with eyes of glass. The hand of God…
Oklahoma (1888)
Oklahoma (1888) by Jane Hammons Before her mother died, Estelle Bow Kerchee asked about her name. She knew Bow and Kerchee came from her father’s people. Comanche. Her mother’s name was Buena Vista Redbird Billy. Estelle wanted to know about…
The Revolutionary’s Brother
The Revolutionary’s Brother by Lita Kurth Oh Sasha, Sasha. Your black hair. When they came to the back door and whispered that your protest hung from a noose, in the centre of the city, I said nothing and did not…
Samyukta
Samyukta by Sudha Balagopal I’m thinking of Prithviraj the whole time: when my father, the King, places a garland laden with roses in my hands, when their nauseating fragrance wafts through my bridal veil, when I sneeze and let the…
Palindrome
Palindrome by Tracy Fells When it was time for her confinement the women took possession of his wife. Amongst his estate workers and the village menfolk, he asked God for a son, a longed-for heir, forcefully declaring his prayers out…
Evie Girl
Evie Girl by Helen Chambers The hole in the kitchen window is shaped the same way Daddy writes the ‘v’ in my name, Evie, like a heart. Mammy says we can’t afford to fix the window, so she’s stuck brown…
54.7754° N, 31.7890° E, April of 1940
54.7754° N, 31.7890° E, April of 1940 by Slawka G. Scarso Tucked in the pockets of their wool coats, medals pinned to their breasts and officer stripes to their shoulders, the prisoners clutch us, grasp us, feeling our comforting shape…
An Encounter Between the Poet and the Mantis
An Encounter Between the Poet and the Mantis by Vanessa Couchman He comes yet again with his busy retinue of clerks. They sneer at me and fawn on him, but he holds his papers away from their gaze. The cries…
What We Believed
What We Believed by D.E. Hardy Art class was the best hour of the week; Miss Cunningham’s poster of the color wheel told the truth—everything had an opposite—blue to yellow, green to red; our desks were magic shields; sharpened pencils…