Fiction & Poetry

“Fear of the foreign and the fear of being foreign.”

“How is it you shed earlier selves and are more yourself with each shedding?”

The author reads her story from the July 28, 2025, issue of the magazine.

She could feel the mirror shining in her dark bedroom closet. Waiting for the offering.

On the day that Pat met Jim Dasterson in the barrier, he had less than a dollar in one pocket and an ounce of gin in the other.

“Now we’re older we know who’s gotten sober / or been bitten by God or chewed and discarded / under a dirty bus shelter.”

“Egyptians saw eternity / in your unspooling center.”

The author reads her story from the July 21, 2025, issue of the magazine.

Yesterday, the most important day of his life. Unless it was today.

He called. She answered. He was her only sibling. He’d paid to have someone deliver her citrus so that she could avoid scurvy.