
Object Permanence
by Amye Archer
It is dark. The summer is ending, but we can still taste her on our tongues. Twenty beers between us has made you hungry for me.

Memphis Slim in Paris
by Alan Swyer
Thanks to a combination of persistence, conniving, and luck, I was in a privileged position in Paris: writing the Paris section of a travel guide.

Ike Minus Tina
by Alan Swyer
The first time Ike Turner told me I’d been sent to him by God, I should have known enough to bolt.

Where It Will Land
by Ann Swann
February in West Texas, the grass is scabby, mesquites thin and low. Here and there a slab of gray stone breaks the skin of the earth as though breaching for air.

The Inner Lives of Salad Forks
by Adriana Gardella
“Somebody’s going to have to share,” I said to the eight utensils assembled in the dishwasher’s silverware basket, one per compartment. I towered over them, dangling a recently used cereal spoon.

Soul Brother
by Alan Swyer
My first music video was neither planned nor predictable. In fact, it ran counter to the conventional trajectory whereby directors begin their careers by making music videos or commercials, then graduate to feature films.

What Students Most Need to Know About Syntax: a Mini-Essay
by George Drew
“What is syntax?” That was my opening question to my Introduction to Poetry section one memorable first day of class.

Goodbye Lewiston Idaho
by Julie McGalliard
The cocktail waitress in the logo is obviously based on the stereotypical sexy gal truck flaps. I can’t remember when I first saw one of those, but I first noticed them in Thelma and Louise, when the title characters make fun of it.

What Abides
by M. M. Adjarian
From the start, the world told my father he was an accident no one especially wanted to happen. Yet life still managed to offer him compensations.

All Mine
by Mary Ann Cooper
In August of 1971, I was twenty years old and miserable. All of my friends were away at college while I was still at home with my family.

Antevasin
by Jordan Rizzeri
When I pass the large, green sign on the New York State Thruway that says “Leatherstocking Region,” I know I am halfway.

Letter from an Omniscient Racist
by Juan Zapata
You come from a land of strife. A land that is broken and ruled by fear—dead men, women, and children hang from bridges and streetlamps. Gunshots are heard outside the home and people get beheaded for sport.

The Geography of Secret Envies
by Angela Kubinec
While optimistically dreading the future, I eat cornbread, collard greens, a dish known as Hoppin’ John, and some kind of pork—preferably hog jowls that were boiled in the pot full of collards.

The Practice of Eating an Apple With Glass Teeth
by Jane-Rebecca Cannarella
I try to pierce apple flesh with my incisors but always avoid using my tree stump molars.

The Bureaucracy of Death
by Andrea Hansell
On a too-warm day in late May, I waited in a Maryland Department of Motor Vehicles branch office holding my dead husband’s license plates in my lap.