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January 17, 2020 | Fiction

Touch

Laura Huey Chamberlain

By now I have learned that sometimes, as Tricia pummels away at the backs of my thighs, I can tolerate a memory or two of George.

Touch photo
Having Been Called Dirt photo

January 16, 2020 | Poetry

Having Been Called Dirt

Joe Betz

the water's instant when still...

Pink photo

January 15, 2020 | Nonfiction

Pink

Tammy Delatorre

There was a yearning in me for her soft whiteness, which went powdery pink in her most private of places.

All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands photo

January 14, 2020 | Poetry

All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands

Alec Prevett

I want to be remembered like this: taut...