By Charlie M. Case Winner of The Jennie Hackman Memorial Prize for Short Fiction (1st) Some kind of sweet thing takes hold of you in the late summer. It’s not much. You take it for nostalgia—standing in the pick-your-own orchard, your family and best friend flitting about selecting perfect…
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The Cardinal Girl
By Sarah Kelly Winner of The Edward R. and Frances Schreiber Collins Literary Awards (Prose) There was a cardinal who used to perch in the ash tree next to my apartment building. I could look out my window in the morning and see it as I made another ration of…
First Motel
By Krista Mitchell Winner of The Jennie Hackman Memorial Prize for Short Fiction (3rd Place) The First Motel Off the Highway Bethlehem, NH. August 1956. She held a hand to her forehead to shield her bloodshot eyes as she turned off the highway, the windshield glittering with flecks of…
Arboreal: A Field Log
By Zeynep Özer Winner of The Edwin Way Teale Award for Nature Writing 1 There is a tree on my way home. It’s planted towards the middle of the sidewalk. The road, otherwise pedestrian, makes a sharp curve around it so that one would have to change their course significantly…
Little Loves (2024)
By Gabrielle WincherhernWinner of The Aetna Creative Nonfiction Award On some level, you always thought love was going to be the thing that saved you. Maybe it started with the fairy tales, the movies. The Princess and the Pauper. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Barbie and the Diamond Castle….
“Chasing Midnight” by Sarah Moynihan
Midnight is such a tantalizing hour, the birth of a new day, the next twenty-four hours blank pages intended to be filled. An hour associated with hope; it’s crazy how easily that same hope can come crashing down in a single minute
“Toys in a Claw Machine” by Connor Gustafson
As I sip my grimy, soiled, defiled, dirty spiced chai with oat milk, a middle-aged couple sitting at the windowsill scratches scratch-off tickets. We are in a New Haven cafe’s conservatory with used books in two of the four walls that are not glass. I surmise their life story based on their outfits
“Hairpiece” by Noah Praver
I’ve been a writer for 25 years and haven’t finished a single book yet. I write all day, every day, and have practically nothing to show for it. I don’t really know why I write, although I surely do enjoy it; all I know for sure is that I haven’t made a penny from what I’ve written so far
“Jonas & Nadia” by Pascale Joachim
I hear barking coming from inside the house as I help my parents unload our minivan in the already packed driveway. It sounds like Nella got big. I toss my backpack over my shoulder and bend to lift my two duffle bags. Frustrated because I’ll have to make two trips to bring everything inside, I curse myself for overpacking. Again
“The Mountain, the Lake, and Rain” by Orion Emerick
My great-aunt Rose told me stars were air holes poked in the top of a container that huge aliens were keeping us in, like children trapping fireflies. She said we got fireworks when the massive aliens flicked ash from their cigarettes. She wove wonderful delusions to explain the beauty of the world