Translation
My first boyfriend was an exchange student from Colombia. His name was Carlos, and he taught me...
Read MorePosted by Katrina Gray | Nov 8, 2011 | Editorials / Op-eds
My first boyfriend was an exchange student from Colombia. His name was Carlos, and he taught me...
Read MorePosted by Kevin Spaide | Nov 8, 2011 | Flash Fiction
Sometimes my wife says, “The kitchen is in the chicken.” She gets confused. She means the chicken...
Read MorePosted by Fernando Iwasaki | Nov 8, 2011 | Fiction
As a boy I enjoyed playing with my sisters under the sheets on my parents’ bed. At times we pretended it was a tent, and at other times it was an igloo at the North Pole, though the most wonderful game was the cave. How big my parents’ bed was!One day I grabbed the flashlight off the night table and told my sisters I was going to explore the bottom of the cave. At first they were laughing, but they got nervous and began to shout my name. I ignored them and kept on crawling until I no longer heard their cries. The cave was enormous. When the batteries ran out I couldn’t go back. I can’t remember how long it’s been since then. My pajamas don’t fit me anymore, and I have to dress like Tarzan.
I heard Mom died.
Read MorePosted by Caitlin Thomson | Nov 8, 2011 | Poetry
The island stretched around her without water. She slept in a tent, made fires, found pitted...
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