Learning Games: Fiction by Danielle Holmes
The library’s Saturday morning storytime was cancelled. The staff had tried everything to keep it afloat.
Two Poems by Allison Collins
That time after the Golden Hour / when the sky glows one slow chalk streak, / the horizon like flesh / pressed to a lightbulb, / I said, come with me.
Three Poems by Marissa Glover
I don’t even know how you got published. / Of all writers in the world, you’re the worst.
Three Poems by Lynn Horton
Fish fall from the sky / in silvery hooks / on a subduction shore / where boats beat at dusk with hunting
Three Oaks
by Daniel Uncapher
He arrived from the East with plenty to lose. Boomtown rascals took a shine to him real quick, coolly eyed.
Family Mart
by Elizabeth Browne
For weeks now, Martine has wondered how she ended up this way. One day her left hand held the bar on the Skytrain. Now, her wrist has grown a ring of blonde hair, and out of that comes the hoof, gray and waxy.
2018 Portal Prize Results
Our most heartfelt congratulations and thanks to our very first Portal Prize winner for Speculative Fiction, Elizabeth Browne, for her story “Family Mart.”
The Sun, the Moon, and Charlie Leigh
by Manne Green
Jackie had gotten it into his head that his new neighbor might have kids the same age as him that he could become best friends with.
Two Poems by Lauren Sartor
I wish death were a man in a black cloak. / At least than I’d have some company.
Three Poems by Robert Tremmel
The High Sierra hangs / suspended between the wing / and the sunken edge / of the caldera.
And When You Found Him, What Did He Say?
by James Hartman
The park is close to the chaos of Michigan’s largest shopping outlets, and I guess I chose this park for its proximity to this chaos.
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Index for W: Growing Up XX
by Aysia Torres
XX was taught that her worth was determined by how much money she earned. Are women worth less than men if they make less money?
The Great Apocalypse Hoax
by Tommy Dean
Even CNN was reporting the end of the world. There were rules, and we were about to break them.
Seconds
by E.T. Parker
John the Baptist stands on the corner / of First and Shaw sporting / a pink cape and inline skates. / He holds a simple white sign: JESUS.
Emotions: Just what are they good for anyway?
by Dr. Donna Roberts
A scientist friend of mine once remarked, “What is the point of all this emotion? It just gets in the way.”
Gnostic
by Nels Hanson
By night the owl attacks the crow, / day the crow the sleeping owl, ego / and shadow, shadow and ego, forever, / as long as there are owls and crows.
Designated Hitter
by Matt Forsythe
“Look at the bright side,” my sister told me. “You’ll always be famous.”
A Midwestern Gothic
by Alec Osthoff
You call the drink a Tom Collins. It makes you more alert to the thin black arm hairs of the man you’re talking to. He’s a spoken word poet—Shelly introduced you, and you haven’t had sex since last spring semester.
Three Poems by Rick Lupert
When the synagogue told me / we’d be going to the duck pond to / cast away our sins / I thought, that’s not fair to the ducks.
