The Healing

Nidhi Singh

When the half-moon, past a half night bent its light on the red-brown building,the misery, it quickened, the despair, it doubled, grim thoughts like fiends fourscore, the spirit they pummeled.

The Bonners, they were at it again; rusty springs on their bed creaking as the walls shook with their heaving and cursing and panting. They’d cast their blind boy outside the shabby one-room apartment; he played …

/ Read ›

Traveling Alone

Kate Blackwell

When Patrice Hughes turned forty, her gift to herself was a week in Paris, alone. It was the Eighties, when the married women she knew rarely traveled alone. Her husband had no objection. He was happy to take care of the home front: the house, the dog, their son, Alec, who was thirteen. She and her husband were estranged, though still living together. She knew …

/ Read ›

For Coq au Vin

Judy T. Oldfield

Chef’s Knife

The knife shriek shriek shrieks against the rod. Fluorescent light, bouncing, highlights the grain, smearing brightness on the white subway tiles. We are not in a subway. You must have realized that. But the subway tiles are the spotless whiteness of chic. If you know about these things, then you know that too.

The knife. The knife sharp and inviting. Its edge poignant, its feel, …

/ Read ›

Mar y Sol

Raluca Ioanid

Marisol’s daughter, Jaquelin, turned 19 yesterday.  She and her 15-year-old brother have been pacing the pea-green fluorescent-lit hallways of the intensive care unit for days.  Their mother’s body teeters precariously on the verge of extinction.  Her body was once their body, a dark laboratory of creation in which their fingers and toes and neurons were hatched.  Now, she rests immobile amidst a spider’s web of …

/ Read ›