In lockdown, my son sings in the bath. “U is for ulta-pulta,” he says, quoting his current favorite book. He warns his wooden flamingo, “Here comes a topsy-turvy wave!” The research suggests that trying to pass on a language sans context to a third generation is hopeless, but I cannot stop. His first blocks wereContinue reading “At Home, Adrift by Rashi Rohatgi”
Tag Archives: Essay
Motherhood (Or Lack Thereof) by Maegan Gwaltney
My two small nephews and tiny niece climbed out of the couch cushion fortress on the bedroom floor. As the first sliver of sunlight whispered through the blinds, they jumped around me on the bed, shouting the details of their dreams. I was in my early twenties and loved my older sister’s kids- the weaselsContinue reading “Motherhood (Or Lack Thereof) by Maegan Gwaltney”
Driving & Crying by Steve Edwards
There I am, 24, crying my eyes out at the stoplight at 9th & Main, crossing the Tapawingo Bridge and beating the steering wheel. There’s my car — a gold Saturn. The one the salesman kneed hard to prove its side-panels wouldn’t dent. As I remember it, the problem was that I wanted everything backContinue reading “Driving & Crying by Steve Edwards”
The Last Six Cookies in the Package by Hannah Grieco
For the middle of the night, sneaking out of your bed, wide awake and hungry: a peach, leftover spaghetti, the last six cookies in the package. Eat fast, before your parents wake up, before the furnace kicks in downstairs, before monsters creep toward you from the shadows. Slink back to your room, bursting but notContinue reading “The Last Six Cookies in the Package by Hannah Grieco”
Two Essays by William Woolfitt
W Is for Wet Concrete In the corner of the graveyard, not far from his church, Father Wernerus builds a concrete altar with niches. Before the concrete dries, he embellishes it with crushed purple glass, golden tiles. He sees in his designs clusters of grapes, ears of wheat. He imagines visitors who will come, and see, and beContinue reading “Two Essays by William Woolfitt”