Browsing: Prose

Jamie Etheridge We are (not) fish tales She can’t breathe and I can’t breathe because we are underwater. Only she has no gills and I have no fins and we are not fish. This is not a fairytale. Not…

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Hess Love Crab Cakes Supposedly Hester was out of her mind, however, she was also brilliant. Hester made and sold so many crab cakes that she was able to buy her freedom. Hester was my great, great, great…

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Susanna Rich Knock on Wood, Grandmother Mumchy taught me, if anyone says anything good.  And not just any wood.  Can’t be a door, its jambs, or a windowsill.  Knocking on doors or windows (as others might to be let…

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Elizabeth Fergason Behindland/August Losing my cousin to her body. Me, in my daddy’s old tee shirt covering freckles and a stick shape. Her, so lush, so comfy cushion. Summer sleeps beneath the stars out at the campground near the…

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Desaree McKinney Sun Tea When the dust storms dwindle and the air is thick with heat, I pull a 1-gallon jar from the cabinet beside the kitchen sink. My mother gifted me the jar, an imitation of her own,…

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