Fiction

The Death of Punk

Boy plays in a three-piece punk band to quell the fire of a reflection’s tale and stitch the wounds of youth. Girl watches from the sweat-filled Midwestern base...

A Quiet Like This

I look out and find a quiet has fallen during the night. I stand on my doorstep taking it in. I don’t move. There’s so little of it, no more than a dusting ove...

Mams Being Mams

The worst part about the whole debacle was having to endure the barrage of well-meaning enquiry from friends and family in the aftermath. The earnest concern, ...

Offering

1. You grow up and you have to find something to do with your life. Come, tell me what you are interested in, Sister Thérèse said. You must be interested in som...

Annus Horribilis

At the end of what they called the terrible year, the annus horribilis—after the fizz and tingle of the first kiss (more like cheap vodka on his breath and some...

Birding

We weren’t supposed to say anything about Aunt Linda’s birds. Our parents would take us to her house every three months or so, for some holiday-related obligati...

Philomel

I had decided not to post #metoo on my wall. Anyone who loves me knows that I’m a rape victim. In fact, people who don’t love me know—social workers, teachers, ...