The Jennie Hackman Memorial Prize for Fiction, Third Place (2017) I don’t take the school bus, I don’t drive, and because mom doesn’t get home from work until four most of the time, I don’t ask her for a ride. But if I take the 509 toward Whitney Avenue at 6:15, I usually get to… More Constance By Jeremiah Dennehy (2017)
From out in the outfield dirt, the crack of the bat was the only indicator a ball was rising up before dive bombing, back through the crepuscular sky. Jimmy turned and chased the echo of the sound. Go foul… Go foul… The ball, draped in a cloak of clouds, seemed to carry by a will… More Erythrophobia By Jameson Croteau (2017)
Long River Graduate Writing Award, Winner (2017) “Petra, she say there be bones,” my grandmother told me, pointing beyond me to the old castle on top of the hill. The frame of the old, Slavic structure was about as beautiful as a decaying tooth with jagged corners. A revolting brownness permeated the place. Even so,… More Crumbling Walls By Kristina Reardon (2017)
The Jennie Hackman Memorial Prize for Fiction, Second Place (2017) The girl I was seeing had this dog, a real fluffy fucker, whose name was Angus. It was her boyfriend’s dog. She was taking care of Angus because his owner was studying abroad in New Zealand for the semester. I was, finally, over my ex.… More Angus By Sten Spinella (2017)
When I was seven, we made poetry books in school. I wrote two poems about my childhood dog, one about my grandpa, and one about 9/11. The rest were gibberish. On the cover, I drew broken hearts, storm clouds, a syringe, and my mom crying in the den. My dog and grandpa had just died.… More The Road to Hell By August Jones (2017)
day 1 We met and though I was elsewhere involved, I knew that he would be the sweetest thing my eyes would ever reach. He had a long term girlfriend but still I couldn’t take my eyes from his toiled blonde hair those anesthetic blue eyes. He looked full to the brim with secrets and… More i think i dreamed you by Aryanah Haydu (2017)
Aetna Creative Nonfiction Award Undergraduate Winner (2017) The form said that every article of clothing we wore that day had to be white, even our undergarments. My dad wasn’t into this kind of thing, so he had normal clothes on and was going to drive around for most of the time we were there. My… More Guilt Treatment by Noah Bukowski (2017)
Jennie Hackman Memorial Award for Short Fiction, Third Place (2015) Another shot. Tequila dried onto his knuckles, his fingernails. When he makes a fist, the skin between his fingers sticks together, like his hand’s one ball of flesh and bone. It tastes like an extra-bitter version of Vicks nose spray is dripping down the back… More A Tie By Joshua Couvares (2015)