Origin Story

Origin Story After Jenny Xie Photo by Yash Raut   I. Once, I was a field of lost lights: shivering fireflies, the last wink of my eye. Come the faceless grass called we have something cold & circular for you to touch. Where did my limbs go? They thought of a girl carrying my name […]

Studio Visit

Studio Visit Photo by Caleb Salomons    Paint over the sketch of train tracks in Toledo, Ohio, until the canvas is the ochre of cobblestones in Toledo, Spain. Paint over the cobblestones in Toledo, Spain, until an alley darkens with the crimson of an hour in Toledo, Ohio. Paint over the hour in Toledo, Ohio, […]

Manuél Sánchez. Gull.

Manuél Sánchez. Gull. San Juan Bay, Puerto Rico November 22, 1900 Photo by Hiva Sharifi  the shrieks of gulls arrive unbodied like the whoops of Taíno warriors soaring ahead …………of their arrows. what would they churn up from the depths with their frenzied …………net of laughter? your farewell gestures, your shirt’s white wrists draw the […]

Night Owls

Night Owls Winner of the 2022 Nelligan Prize for Short Fiction Selected by Ramona Ausubel Photo by Mathew Schwartz   Past dusk, Hom releases the squirrel. Huffing and delirious with pain from the BB shot embedded in a hind leg, it limps across the yard, seeking refuge in the shadowy expanse. Clouds disperse, unveiling a […]

The Laundry

The Laundry Photo by Emily Chung   What was it like,” my partner asks, “growing up as you did?”—and I can only think to tell her about the laundry. So much for a family of three, it seemed. There was a chute in the closet beside my room, which made me think of the game […]

Catalogue Beginning with a Line from Marcelo Hernandez Castillo

Catalogue Beginning with a Line from Marcelo Hernandez Castillo Photo By Radek Homola   The music stopped playing years ago, but we’re still dancing. The naked maple still has so many leaves to release before we have any right to call it dead. How our children out back wildly thrash angels into snow without losing […]

Her Singing Horses

Her Singing Horses Photo By Nati Melnychuk   My big sister’s horses are mostly dead horses. …………Once, her horses were talented horses; once, her horses were singing horses; once, people said …………my big sister’s horses had the most gorgeous young voices they’d heard. Everyone said …………she had show-stopping horses. Everyone said her horses were stars. […]


Self-Storage Photo By Joel Swick   [The Bowl that Fills] I can’t conjure my own first memory, but I do remember Virginia Woolf’s. She was in the nursery at St. Ives in the Hebrides. The acorn on the end of the string from a window blind slid back and forth across the floor with the […]