By Laura Teodorescu Tea time is at eight o'clock every morning, without exception. Emily puts milk into hers, but mama and I take it with a hearty amount of honey. We drink it slowly, in the Great Dining Room, without exchanging any words. When we're done, Emily cleans up quickly, mama goes in her study … Continue reading Tea With Honey
Inconsequential Memories
By Natasha Rogers I remember when I wrote the letter volunteering for this. A woman takes my hand and carefully leads me down some stairs. Her arm is barely grazing my shoulders as we descend, “There you go, good, one more step,” she says. I can’t see anything; I’m blindfolded. It’s voluntary, but I probably … Continue reading Inconsequential Memories
Hedge Your Bets
By Doug Dawson "Bless me Father, it's been ... three years since my last confession and these are my sins." "Just a minute, my son ... why so long?" "I've been very ... busy, Father." "Too busy to come to confession?" "I've been ... doing other things." "Have you … Continue reading Hedge Your Bets
Formal Request
By Allison Futterman For LMF You come to my dorm room holding your pants in your right hand. In your left is an iron, and a jacket is crisply folded and draped over your arm. I realize this is your ROTC dress uniform. You pull out a roll of iron-on fabric tape from your backpack … Continue reading Formal Request
The Nightmare in the Sky
By Frank Kowal Billy’s mother was struggling to catch her breath. She had just dodged four lanes of fast-moving city traffic and was now holding onto an old public phone across the street from her building. But because a growing crowd was staring at her—she was wearing a bare-shouldered, sparkling red, floor-length evening gown—she kept … Continue reading The Nightmare in the Sky
The Practice
By Jim Woessner With great difficulty an old man climbs a creek bank carrying a large stone that looks as if it weighs twenty pounds. Although he walks slowly and bends at the waist, he appears relatively fit for someone in his eighties. His short white hair and stubby beard accentuate the deep lines in … Continue reading The Practice
Seeking the Color of the Shadows
By Chitra Gopalakrishnan I sit with old and young relatives in Coimbatore, in Tamil Nadu, in the south of India, in my aunt Radha’s home, or rather on her balmy thinnai, her long and wide red oxide porch, its polish alive and glistening at a level of perfection that can be achieved only by hundreds … Continue reading Seeking the Color of the Shadows
The Dog Days of January
By Cat Sole It was the dog days of January, and she was dreaming of the beach. She lay in a pool of humidsweat on the single mattress, in the sunless room that was too small - and thought of blue skies, and sea-salt air, and blank sheets of paper.She thought of well-intentioned words of … Continue reading The Dog Days of January
For $2.00 She Was Mine
By Debra J. White Maxine died in 2001. I miss her terribly even now. I can still remember that dayin September 1988 when I was a social worker in a crime ridden, gang infested and run-down Bronx neighborhood. I paid $2.00 to a crack dealer for a skinny, flea infested straydog. Since then, I’ve rescued … Continue reading For $2.00 She Was Mine
The Last Stop
By Angela Johnson When Alma Leblanc looked out the window of the office building at the shadows beginning to fall across the downtown street, she knew that she was late. She had been so busy organizing and hanging the paintings that the bank had commissioned that she didn’t realize it was after 7 o’clock. She … Continue reading The Last Stop
Academy of the Heart And Mind 