And the winner is… What the Bones Remember by Melinda Li We loved this story from its opening line. The way it plays with paradox creates this liminal space between a god and their people. The story had a great structure with the god returning in new forms, each one an escalation from the one…
The sky went dark on a Monday, pushing the straining sun behind a curtain of smoke, creating an opaque swath of grayness where light would catch – lost – never making it to the retina, never lighting up the things we had been used to seeing: tree leaves in the sunlight, a glint off the…
Back home inside our first floor apartment at 2PM, as we were, after a morning at the city library where we spent several hours while mom searched through the mysteries for one that suited her and I picked out a couple of graphic novels, after mom had splashed the leftover bottle of wine from her…
Good Dog
Dad calls it “Eyesore Trashtown”. I don’t read perfect yet, but looking at the letters on the sign, I don’t think that’s right. “It’s called Eastlake Terrace,” Mom says, hugging her purse tight and shooing me into the elevator. “Dad thinks he’s funny.” Dad wasn’t funny this morning, whisper-fighting with Mom, both of them thinking…
Scintilla River & A Boy Under Glass
His body was cocooned in ice. A casket of ice. Like one of those gag gift ice cubes—plastic-clear with a fly trapped in the center. Illinois winter was that plastic cube and he—that boy—miles and years downriver—he was that fly. He was that fly. If he’d been alive today, that’s what the girls might have…
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