Prose by Amaruuk Bose Art by Adri Marcano It has been eight hours and twenty-seven minutes since I killed Nathan and you still haven’t texted me back. This isn’t unusual—you’ve gone without texting me back before, sometimes for hours at a time when you’re busy, but never this long. And never after I’ve killed someone.
Prose by Lorelei McEwen Art by Natalia Mohar Disclaimer: This piece depicts the world through the lens of an autistic protagonist. It is my intention for this piece to foster understanding and acceptance of both autistic struggles and strength. This portrayal is based on my personal experience as an autistic person and may not ring
Prose by Nina Sky Robertson Art by Amy Ng It is October and Highway 19 is bordered by blackberries and stinging nettle, both past their prime and beginning to decay in the burgeoning winter. We work for Glen, a mill subcontractor, burning slash piles that loggers left last winter. Sometimes the piles are huge, the
Prose by Samhita Shanker Art by Karen Zhang She holds an empty metal tumbler in one hand and a milk pot in the other, carefully pouring steaming coffee back and forth like a pendulum, pulling higher and higher each time. She knows he likes a thick layer of foam at the top and will complain
Prose by Amaruuk Bose Art by Amy Ng We were 15 and stupid and had skipped French class because we’d just learned about the concept of free will. We scraped together pocket change for drinks from 7/11, laughing giddily to ourselves as we paced the tiled floor unsupervised. We could get anything we wanted. We’d
Prose by Corey Morrell Art by Aiza Bragg Mrs. Adney lived on her own in a small farmhouse, not ten minutes down the road from us. In the spring she had become ill, and by the time summer came around she was mostly bedridden. Her pain was so bad we could hear it from the
Prose by Samhita Shanker Art by Luiza Ortiz “Are you ready? We can’t be late for our anniversary!” “Two minutes!” Dilip calls, pushing through loose coins and memories in his closet searching for his cufflinks. His fingers brush aside some dust and instead, find gold glittering in the corner. He reaches in, clasping an errant
Prose by Katrina Von Salzen Art by Karen Zhang Dear Anyone, I want us to be friends, you and I. Because friends tell each other secrets. I have a secret- but no one to tell. Will you hold my secret? Will you keep it with you, hold it close to your heart, let it flutter
No town looked less aerodynamic than Des Moines, Iowa, when the Earharts moved there in the autumn of 1907. It was all a special kind of coal-dust black, from the blocky Fourth Street high-rises towering some six-seven stories over the little blackened alleys; […]
Momo tries. She really does. Wanting to make a good impression on her fiancée’s dad, they specifically took time off work so that she could visit Ying Yue’s dad and get to know him, then invite him to their wedding. […]
We burn the needle over a lighter Mimi found in her mom’s purse. Then she lies on her pink sheets, facing away from me as I kneel next to her head. With clean hands I tuck a dry bar of soap behind her ear and poise the needle over the dot she drew. […]
I always knew Dad was handsome. When I was five, I remembered the fluorescent hazy lights of the television flickering before my eyes. I saw people who looked like the kids in my class, and sounded like them. Eing-lish. A language I didn’t quite understand yet […]
In those days, we didn’t really know what vegans were. There were no vegan options at the 7-11, the Fresh Slice, or at Ali Baba’s Shawarma Stop. When Quinn Holmes first explained to us, three sweaty children standing on a street corner, that he was raised vegan, and what that meant, we were horrified […]
Don’t ask me the name of the beach.
I won’t tell you.
I don’t want you to know.
I don’t want you to go to this beach.
I don’t want anybody to go to this beach […]
The seagulls had woken him, but it was the children walking beside him along the shore who took the brunt of his rage […]