Creative
Nonfiction
August Contributors
Anne Dougherty, Clayton Eccard, Erik Fuhrer, Brandi George, Caroline Huckeba, Sam Moe, Michela Polito, Mugdhaa Ranade, Travis Turner, Chachee Valentine, and Bridget Verhaaren
demimonde note taking
by Patrick Johnston
“I seem to spend half my time thinking thoughts on the back of motor scooters. Juddering past ancient Wats and Temples and Mosques and Cathedrals. And open front stores where wiry, tanned mechanics fix bikes.”
blue danube
by Danielle Rufrano
“I elbowed him in the stomach, rushed through the rows of students, cautious not to trip over my laces, the feet of other students, picked up my violin, tucked it under my chin, and played “Blue Danube”.
in the dark
by A. L. Smith
“Every part of my skin glistens with sweat from the unbearable heat of this summer night. The sticky discomfort tempts me to shed the covers, but I will not.”
jakarta jog
by Zary Fekete
“Every few blocks a mosque appears, immaculate and bright against the waking streets. Someone is sweeping the courtyard with slow deliberate strokes. The gates are open. They seem to remain open always, as if the building itself is quietly reminding the city that prayer is never very far away.”
prayer to our fallen matriarchs
by Dyre Copenhale
“Along the way, we collect moments, memories that made us feel alive, to remember that this is all temporary. Life is only transition.”
don’t tell god
by Tafara Gava
“The ease in my step wasn’t stoicism. It was acute cluelessness.”
the minotaur
by Lorette C. Luzajic
“In that moment, he had vowed to become the greatest artist who ever lived. Picasso, as epic and brutal as God.”
cabbage girl
by Ari Cordovero
“The cabbage on the cutting board. My grandmother’s knife. My father’s son. Every room where men startled at the sound of a girl wanting something.”
recipe for disaster
by Sara Hutchinson
“After enjoying the dish you may experience a nausea, anxiety and sleeplessness. However, if you make the dish and survive, you will feel better. Safety warning: this recipe may cause divorce.”
chosen descent
by Zary Fekete
“I think about how much of my life has been engineered for ease. How many ramps I’ve taken without noticing. How often I’ve mistaken friction for failure instead of proof of contact.”
the cult of self-work
by Daniel Bailey
“I finished the coffee even though it tasted terrible. The app still wanted data. I put the phone face down. For a second nothing happened. No lesson. No insight. Just me in the kitchen breathing like it still belonged to me.”
six
by Magda Lynne
“The danger, unmistakable. Without a word, I duck low. At six, it isn’t far. Another dinner plate breaks on the kitchen floor.”
plucking
by Chel Campbell
“A white egg cracks. Death’s indifferent eyes cloud over with the golden yolk of time.”
the box
by David Henson
“I’ve heard of people who eat in their box, curl up and sleep in it…almost never leave. Don’t let that happen. The box isn’t for living in. The box is for living out.”
the apple and the tree
by Lillian Taylor and Richard Leise
“Principal Morgan would be retired by the time their offspring were old enough for secondary school. So, Tucker was it. No more Nolans. No more Nolans, he said, melodically.”
whiskey and fire
by A. L. Smith
“The library book says you need a candle, a personal item from your target, and the incantation— then, BAM! Hexed!”
the red-haired american
by L.F. Graubard
“Ronald Pelton. Pale, soft voice, face like the uncle who teaches you chess and guilt. Not dangerous at first glance, but glowing underneath.”
this is about nothing
by Uma Jagwani
“In the elevator, I look at my sweaty, meaningless face and feel disappointed. Not white! As if one day, I’ll step into this elevator and exit on the seventh floor as a part of the ruling class.”
an aching absence of song
by Alex Palmatier
“I wonder if you were put away for longer, things would have been different. Or if they gave you a guitar. What I would give to hear you play again.”
i could have saved my dog
by Katie Vinson
“I don’t have her, I could have had her, should have had her snatched, stealed, soughted police, priests, hitmen, even a hitman would’ve grabbed her, I left, walked in, walked out, I walked right fucking past her…”