Dally M. Du Mez    Sometimes Jorge lay awake at night in the hinterlands, gazing upon Oaxacan constellations, thinking of her. She who should have been his corazón. She, who was never supposed to be a stranger. I’m sorry, he would whisper. I’m sorry I never came...

The Bones of The World

Daniel Harrison   “Poems a dead boy wrote. I hurt him in the way that you would like to hurt me, but you can’t! I’m not young and vulnerable anymore.'  -Tennessee Williams, A Streetcar Named Desire  It was November when he got back. He went for a walk in the...



Fiction by Christina Tuttle