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Dear Masha (to the one I once called Peanut):

November 25, 2014/in Poetry, Poetry, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach

Have you eaten today? I doubt you’d answer. Still, I ask, hoping you open your mouth, that this letter reminds you how I peeled grapefruit on my bedspread, and you pecked, in the way of your fascination with birds and the daintier things, the fruit’s pink flesh right out of my palms, admiring the thinness […]

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Joyful Canvases: Mixed Media

November 25, 2014/in Art, Art, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Eghosa Raymond Akenbor
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The Magic Hour

November 25, 2014/in Winter-Spring 2015, Writing for Young People, Writing for Young People / by Susan Abram

The man who had been nicknamed The Count wanted to know if I was a painter. “Not really,” I said. But I could see why he would think that. I was standing in the middle of the alley holding a heavy painter’s brush and looking down on a row of dusty cans of Benjamin-Moore blue, […]

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Intention

November 24, 2014/in CNF, CNF, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Shauna Jones

Pittsburgh Center for Complementary Health and Healing, one Sunday morning in late spring. My feet, immersed in a mineral bath of mint and lavender. Candlelight reflects off the vanilla walls; Native American flute music floats to my ears. Rebekah, the therapist, sits across from me, her chestnut hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. This […]

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The Wife of Michael Cleary

November 24, 2014/in Fiction, Fiction, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Caitlin Keefe Moran

The day before the party, Valerie asked her boyfriend Andrew to buy her a book. Actually, that’s not how it happened. It was Andrew who volunteered to get Valerie a book, and in the end he bought her two. “I know tomorrow’s going to be hard for you,” he said. “Is there anything I can […]

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Dysthymia

November 24, 2014/in Poetry, Poetry, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Elizabeth Yalkut

you are the bell, and I am the tongue of the bell, ringing you —Billy Collins, “Japan” There are days I have been cast (down) in bronze. Gloom pervades me like patina. I am the bells of Mary-le-Bow, long (fallen) silent, mute, tongueless, hollowed out. The claws of my dead dog clatter on the floor. […]

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How Beautiful is Thy Dwelling: Digital Photography

November 24, 2014/in Art, Art, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Kate Allen
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The View from Room 128

November 24, 2014/in Winter-Spring 2015, Writing for Young People, Writing for Young People / by Danielle Burnette

No amount of pleading or pain meds could stop Mr. Villanueva from yowling like a depressed cat at night. After his roommate threatened to sue the hospital for emotional distress, the nurses decided that Mr. Villanueva deserved a private room. From that came my first candy striper assignment to convert Room 128, which stored pumps, […]

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Anatomy Lab

November 23, 2014/in Poetry, Poetry, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Celeste Lipkes

I. You may find it emotionally difficult to dissect signifiers of personhood, says the anatomy professor, meaning these knuckles, these nails still with dirt underneath them, this stiff hand I hold as I trim away skin to the tendons beneath, thin ropes that, puppet-like, pull up each finger. Their names flexor digitorum profundus abductor pollicis […]

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Wander, Lost

November 23, 2014/in CNF, CNF, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Antonia Malchik

Step The physical therapist, who comes to evaluate my son, is thrilled with our upstate New York property. A short, steep hill moves from our front porch into a brief, undulating yard and from there to a former cornfield now thick with swamp grass and milkweed. The yard itself is overrun with crabgrass, dandelions, broad-leaf […]

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Dad Died

November 23, 2014/in DWM, DWM, Winter-Spring 2015 / by N. West Moss

When I was little, Dad would get into the car and say, “Let’s get lost.” “OK,” I’d shout. “Let’s get lost.” At each intersection he’d ask, “Which way?” until we didn’t know where we were anymore. “Look,” I’d tell Mom when we banged into the breakfast room later. “Dad bought me a diary with a […]

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Dayenu

November 23, 2014/in DWM, DWM, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Melinda Gordon Blum

The rabbi hands me the shovel, instructing me to invert its bowl before scooping the first mound of earth onto my father’s grave. This is the custom, he explains. To honor our loved one’s memory, we must demonstrate our reluctance to perform this obligatory task. With an upside-down shovel, the rabbi says, his free hand […]

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Requiem for a Marriage

November 23, 2014/in DWM, DWM, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Jacqueline Doyle

“To James, In Requiem,” the wedding present ditty reads. I open a yellowed envelope and find it tucked in a “Wedding Congratulations” card dated April 10, 1948, signed by twenty-seven people. My father’s coworkers at his engineering firm perhaps? None of the names seem familiar. A lavender orchid decorates the front of the card, with […]

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Come Spring & Articulation

November 23, 2014/in Flash Prose, Flash Prose, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Barbara Harroun

[flash fiction] Come Spring A teaching job plucked us from the city, planted us gingerly in a town literally surrounded by corn. We bought a small house, two bedrooms, one bath because it was compact, updated and affordable. It would not require my attention. My wife was consumed in great gulps by the baby, and […]

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The Big Bang: Digital Photography

November 23, 2014/in Art, Art, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Deborah Bay
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The Uninvited Guest

November 23, 2014/in Winter-Spring 2015, Writing for Young People, Writing for Young People / by Miranda Freeman

The trees were clustered so thickly now that Mischa could no longer pretend she wasn’t lost. She’d had to slow to a walk, too, not that it mattered much. When you’re not sure where you’re headed, a walk will get you there just as well as a run will. She looked down at her Garmin. […]

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Days After

November 22, 2014/in Essays, Essays, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Danez Smith

July 14, 2013 (Not Guilty) The rally is not the mourning I need. A Protestor wears a new gray, leopard-print hoodie, carries tropical flavor Skittles, 99-cent honey-iced tea. Black boy—still dead. White Man richer, free, alive. Tall White Guy with the Socialist T-shirt is the master of ceremonies […]

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The Blue Frog of the Blue Moon

November 22, 2014/in Winter-Spring 2015, Writing for Young People, Writing for Young People / by Lydia Fazio Theys

The dictionary tells us that a Blue Moon is the second full moon to occur in one month, a rather rare thing. But in the land of stories, a Blue Moon can mean something much more rare. Something very exciting indeed. *     *     * Four hundred twenty nine years ago, in a snug little village […]

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Wet Glass Plates

November 22, 2014/in CNF, CNF, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Janna Marlies Maron

Living alone in the city had done something to me. Until occupying a one-bedroom apartment on 18th Street with no one to keep me company except Sydney, a cuddly cat with the loudest meow, I never would have walked down the city’s busy streets without a companion. Now that I think about it, it seems […]

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A Nest of Arms

November 22, 2014/in Fiction, Fiction, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Boris Tsessarsky

It was almost 6 AM and Heidi lay awake in bed, trying not to think about the war. Lately, when she looked at her girlfriend, Dara, she was reminded of a Sultanese woman—a civilian—that her unit fired on. The woman had been carrying a basket full of fruit, which from a distance posed a threat, […]

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Heart-Shaped Box

November 22, 2014/in Poetry, Poetry, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Amanda Oaks

This is a photograph of your hands scooping water out of the river named lonely running through the center of your grandmother’s chest. This is a photograph of your knees bent at the altar painted with the years between you & the last time you saw your father cry. This is a photograph of the […]

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Portraits: Oil Paintings

November 22, 2014/in Art, Art, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Donna Festa
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Running Water & Open Your Eyes

November 21, 2014/in Winter-Spring 2015, Writing for Young People, Writing for Young People / by Aiden Thomas

Running Water When I would go over to my friends’ houses, I thought it was weird that their parents didn’t scream or hit them. I thought that maybe these parents behaved when company was over but that, surely, they had the same home life I did after I left, that my friends were tormented by […]

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Speak-Easy

November 21, 2014/in Poetry, Poetry, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Zachary C. Spencer

I knew it would be my last few days in the city, But I wasn’t going to tell you that I was leaving. We made our way toward the candled windows Of Little Italy like a movie from the early 30s, Grainy and aimless and your arm through mine. Our throats were phonographs, notes of […]

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All Hallow’s Evening

November 21, 2014/in CNF, CNF, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Darlene Pagán

A few days before Halloween, we drove home from a friend’s church where parishioners had decked out the trunks of their cars with lights, plastic skulls, and spiders, even fog machines, then backed them up into rows in the parking lot so the kids could Trunk or Treat. “Mom!” Blaine hollered, pointing out the window. […]

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Unmasked: Oil Paintings

November 21, 2014/in Art, Art, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Alea Hurst
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The Reasons We Write

November 21, 2014/in Blog / Eva Shantharam

There are different reasons why people write. For some of us it is therapeutic, for others it is just for the pure love of shaping words and making them flow onto a page like a poem. For others it is about getting a message across or creating a magical place that only the imagination can […]

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What It’s Like When You Escape

November 20, 2014/in Poetry, Poetry, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Sally Zakariya

Running from Virginia to the other shore you’re halfway there in Topeka or thereabouts which is where you stay and serve coffee in an Edward Hopper truck stop where it’s always dusk and the interstate rolls flat out parallel to the sky straight as a chalked line snapped against a wall no curves or hills […]

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Color Tectonics: Photo Collages

November 20, 2014/in Art, Art, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Karen Larson-Voltz
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Suburbia

November 19, 2014/in Poetry, Poetry, Winter-Spring 2015 / by Brian McCarty

Dad got drunk in the afternoons. He slouched in his short shorts and torn Ocean Pacific tee-shirt for hours after work watering the magnolia sapling by the driveway. His sneakers pressed yellow dimples into the St. Augustine sod as he watched the teenage girl across the street bronze in her strapless two piece.   His […]

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Friday Lunch Blog

Friday Lunch! A serving of contemporary essays published every Friday.

Today’s course:

Peace, Love, and a lot of Loud Rock & Roll

June 17, 2022/in A Transfer, Blog / Sunee Lyn Foley
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Crosses to Pentacles

June 10, 2022/in A Transfer, Blog / Jazmine Cooper
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Table to Trash

June 3, 2022/in A Transfer, Blog / Franz Franta
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Midnight Snack

A destination for all your late night obsessions.

Tonight’s bites:

QVC-land

May 6, 2022/in A Transfer, Midnight Snack / D. E. Hardy
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Escape Artists at the End of the World

April 29, 2022/in A Transfer, Midnight Snack / Lisa Levy
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The House in the Middle

April 15, 2022/in A Transfer, Midnight Snack / Megan Vasquez
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Amuse-Bouche

Little bites every Monday to whet your appetite!

Today’s plate:

Eggs, No Basket

June 27, 2022/in A Transfer, Amuse-Bouche, CNF / Kelsi Long
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The Revolution Began at Book Club

June 20, 2022/in A Transfer, Amuse-Bouche, Fiction / Sari Fordham
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A Letter to the Dead Grandmothers That Raised Us

June 13, 2022/in A Transfer, Amuse-Bouche, Poetry / Levi J. Mericle
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School Lunch

An occasional Wednesday series dishing up today’s best youth writers.

Today’s slice:

I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

May 12, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Brendan Nurczyk
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A Communal Announcement

April 28, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Isabella Dail
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Seventeen

April 14, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Abigail E. Calimaran
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Word From the Editor

The variety in this issue speaks not only to the eclectic world we inhabit but to the power of the human spirit. We live in an uncertain world. In the U.S., we’re seeing mass shootings daily. Across the world, we’re still very much in a pandemic, some being trapped in their homes for weeks on end, others struggling to stay alive in hospitals. War continues to wage in Ukraine. Iran and North Korea are working diligently to make nuclear weapons. The list goes on. Still, we have artists who are willing and able to be vulnerable with one another, to share stories and art to help us try and make sense of our world.

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