The ocean is not more than a feeling of vast black hills or the yellow unforgiving breadth of the interior. It seemed that way to me,...

It isn’t quiet in my Algebra II class. My phone accidentally dings with an Instagram notification. I check the message under my desk:...

We squeeze in the rear-facing seat of the maroon station wagon. The town disappears and the desert takes over. For half an hour, we sing...

All my life I’ve dreamt of gods. There’s a constant Decameron in my soul of spiritual raconteurs passing stories around a fire of cosmic...

A lemon now rests on the cap of a wall, having drifted from comfort of leaves and arms, pulled by wind of foreign, destined lands. The...

When I touch the girl’s hair, she crosses her arms over her head and becomes a small, obstreperous siren. I can’t remember her name....

After my father remarried, I became angry. I was sixteen, and I didn’t want a mother. Molia said she wouldn’t mother me, but her eyes...

A friend called and asked if I could help him remove a rack from a pickup truck a widow wanted to give to her grandson. He didn’t want a...

By Ellen Weeren Children play on street corners until the lights grow dim and the stars are visible like pinpricks on a bulletin board....