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MonthAugust 2017

Girlhood

By Hannah Calkin
During my teenage years I lost
My belief in Fairy Tales and pixie dust
But came to see myself as Persephone:
Legend of beauty, freedom, and imprisonment.
A dynamic dichotomy of all sorts.

Les Bises

by Zach Roberge

Au revoir Le Mans. Au revoir France. I pause a moment before leaning in slowly and kissing your left cheek followed by your right. We embrace then I leave out the door, waving goodbye.

A Nameless Bird

by Tyrel Kessinger

After my wife leaves for work, I round up my two daughters and we head to the backyard, an old raggedy quilt in hand. For a July morning in Kentucky it’s, quite surprisingly, a very pleasant one. Far too nice to not be taking advantage. My youngest daughter occupies the quilt with me under the shade of the one tree I can name, our Japanese Maple.

Forgetting

by Savannah Leigh

The two old men stood at the corner where Briar Avenue met Second Street.  Bickering, they hovered over a phone, the faint glow of a maternity shop’s window display washing over them.

Postcards

by Michael Crane

My father left my mother today. He caught a taxi to the airport and boarded a plane to Mexico. This confused my mother as she didn’t believe he knew anyone there. I was my parent’s only child and close to my father as any daughter could be. I stayed with my mother for six weeks.

French Food

The other day I bought bread. Not sliced bread and not bread that’s been stored on a shelf for days on end. I bought a fresh baguette that had been baked in store. I paid less than 1 euro, and to pair, I picked up fromage a tartinare, which is a garlic cheese spread.