by Hafizah Geter at VIDA: Women in the Literary Arts Because it’s afternoon. Because the sun is setting. Because I’m followed home at night and to work some mornings. Because I looked upset. […]
by Hafizah Geter at VIDA: Women in the Literary Arts Because it’s afternoon. Because the sun is setting. Because I’m followed home at night and to work some mornings. Because I looked upset. […]
by Tia Jensen. “I was hungry. Ramen noodles were not available in Kentucky until I was in high school. Daddy would boil them for an hour, ’til they softened, expanded, swelled. He’d toss the water out, add spice last. Shared with four people, one packet never enough.”
By Karen Lynch. “I know how to shoot to kill, but I can’t shoot a gun out of a man’s hand. Civilians always think cops can do that, but only Annie Oakley could have pulled off that sort of trick. I know how to stay married, but I don’t how to keep passion burning in a long marriage, and maybe I also view those who say they can as I do Annie, rare, unlikely, and highly skilled.”
by Vanessa Blakeslee I spent the first week of October with my father, side-by-side in the Florida condo where I’ve long resided. Pieces to a board game lay scattered throughout the house, the […]
by Sharon Kessler —from Rattle #44, Summer 2014 [download audio] Seems like every time you turn around, something else just hit the ground. —Bob Dylan, “Everything Is Broken” I have woven a parachute […]
by Angela Jackson-Brown I see you. I SEE you. I remember the first time my family and I went to see the movie, Avatar, and after we heard the Naʼvi characters say […]
Jen Pastiloff first posted this essay, titled “Shame to Love: Learning to Live Again After Rape” on TheManifestStation.net, leaving the writer’s name out. She’s posting it again after receiving this note: ”Dear […]
by Suzannah Gilman, Susan Lilley, and Lisa Lanser Rose One night at the “Other Words” conference a few weeks ago, we three sipped nightcaps together in the hotel bar. We talked long […]
By Darlyn Finch Kuhn “A woman’s body is the most beautiful thing in the world,” the artist says, and staring at the canvas he’s painted, I have to agree. The standing nude […]
Originally posted on The Brevity Blog:
Another winning entry in Brevity‘s Holiday Smile contest: It is Thanksgiving, again. My smile is a weapon cutting off access to my grief-treasure. Or perhaps my smile…