We walked towards his dorm and stood near the entrance, silent. His hands touched my face, slowly going down my neck and shoulders. Then he stopped and butted his forehead against mine, looking at me. I looked right back at him. “You wanna come in?”
I followed him in the…
by Francis Yasha
Ned took a step forward. The motion sensors overhead signaled for the transparent doors just below to slide apart in opposite directions. Ned stood where he was, afternoon shoppers streaming past on either side of him into Kroger. …
Rhetoric’s apartment was in a block between a no-name bodega, (that’s what he called it) and a small laundromat. The locals were a mix of college students in trendy non-prescription glasses and folks with crunchy hair and meth teeth. I was there because he asked me to be there. …
Grandmother arrived unannounced, again. She had her turmoil filled suitcases and her sharp devil’s tongue in tow. She had made herself at home, as usual, and worked her way into the bathroom. My mother and father were in the kitchen talking. They always had conversations in the kitchen when they…
When I asked Rafael his occupation he smiled and told me his history of start-ups: silk bowties, artisan turkey jerky, and organic mango-lemonade. Rafael told me about summers in Key Largo teaching scuba, then a month he worked for an independent cleaning company scrubbing office toilets and wiping telephones with…
by Pietra Dunmore
Elizabeth did the best she could to make ends meet. There were times she’d pay the light bill and times the lights went out. Sometimes we had a place to stay, other times we had to flee in exodus. Those times, I could never bring more than…
by Amelia Coulon
[Editor’s Note: This piece is part of the “Topical” series, with each piece solely submitted to and chosen by the Final Reader Pietra Dunmore.]
“Hank? I think I might have broken it.”
The distressed call from the bedroom into the living room, where Hank tried to work…
by Katherine Gleason [Editor’s Note: This piece is part of the “Topical” series, with each piece solely submitted to and chosen by the Final Reader Pietra Dunmore.] Story
I am returning this box of chocolates. I don’t want your chocolates. What I want is my time, my sleep. So, you…
by Sean Cho A.
[ Editor’s Note: This piece is part of the “Topical” series, with each piece solely submitted to and chosen by the Final Reader Pietra Dunmore.]
If I was not American
I would be at war.
In Korea K-pop groups must still serve
their required 2 years…
Pietra is an writer, artist, and daydreamer. She is currently working on her novel and a collection of poetry. www.pietradunmore.net
