By Mansi Dahal / Nonfiction /         “What versions of yourself lived in that home that never lived anywhere else?” The writing prompt hangs in the air as I doodle in my off white notebook, feeling exposed in a classroom of fifty. My mind tells me I can't write here, fearing that my grip on the pen betrays my unresolved heartaches and my clumsiness—the mango juice on my flowery dress, nail polish on my beige romper, tteok-bokki on my parallel pants. Each time I tell myself,

By Amber Wong / Nonfiction /         The April air’s crisp as a Granny Smith, the water smooth as velvet. Shades of coral edge over the eastern horizon, the promise of a sunny spring day. At the top of the University of Washington crew racecourse on the edge of Lake Washington, my eyes sweep the skyline, north to south, hoping for a sweet reward. And there it is. Today, beyond the dark evergreen nests of firs, the blue-gray jags of the distant Cascade Mountains end with an e

By Zainab Omaki / Nonfiction /         Technically, I did meet you. I have a picture of you holding me as a baby at some sort of party. You are in a bright orange skirt suit, bathed in the glitter of lights under a sky of darkness. Your hair is a gloriously coiffed jheri curl, your long legs tucked under you on a pool chair, the water in mid-ripple beside you. And your lips, your ostentatiously purple lips, your stunningly purple lips, are spread out in a smile that knows no

By Ann Calandro / Nonfiction /         In July and August we stayed with my mother’s parents in their white summer house with green shutters, fifty miles west of the city. The house had four small bedrooms, one bathroom, five acres of weedy grass, and a large kitchen in which my grandmother Evelyn baked bread and pies, made jam, and canned fruit. Outside smelled like lilacs, planted by a previous owner. Inside smelled like burning sugar. The summer I was nine, my father wen

By T.J. Jourian / Nonfiction /         I’m not sure what to make of this group yet.  It’s my first time meeting these dozen or so he/hims and they/thems, some with names I recognize from seeing them in my inbox every so often on a listserv for the Masculinity Action Project. We are sitting in a circle in a… well, looking around, I actually can’t tell what this room is normally used for. There are seven or eight overflowing bookshelves across three walls, a small kitchen in

By Shella Parcarey / Nonfiction /         One day after my tenth birthday, I stuffed a suitcase with nearly all my clothes. Underneath...

By Greta McGee / Nonfiction /         On September 27, 2024, my uterus is removed from my body. I shall be unconscious the entire time,...

By Amna Tariq Shah-Kemp / Nonfiction /         It began with a cough. My husband, Dylan, an Australian, whose heart belonged as much to...

By Kristina Kasparian / Second Place, 2025 Plentitudes Prize in Nonfiction /             The stench clings to the flickering neon...

By Shantanu M / Third Place, 2025 Plentitudes Prize in Nonfiction /             The cement tile on the threshold of my old house would...

By Josina Manu Maltzman / First Place, 2025 Plentitudes Prize in Nonfiction /             We arrive late, a little after 6am, and...

By Patricia McGuire-Hughes / Nonfiction / *for Grandma Mac   A month after Grandma died, her voice visited me for the...

By Kenley Ellis / Nonfiction /   The story of my grandmother did not always make peoples’ eyes wrinkle in pity. It was one just like...

By Cindy Sams / Nonfiction /   There must have been so much blood. On the floor, on the counter, on nineteen-year-old Patricia...

By Tighe Flatley / Nonfiction /   Close your eyes. Think of a Victoria’s Secret store: the hip-hop–infused pop music squeezing...

By Ifrah Yousuf / Nonfiction / “You have to tell your family about us.” Your jaw falls on the floor. Never thought you would ever hear...

By Jack Cooper / Nonfiction / …I learned that there was something shameful about loving boys, especially since I was a boy. I didn’t...

By Sullivan Summer / Nonfiction / When I was 12 Aqua Net was everything. I thought maybe it would be cool but maybe retro but still cool...

By Alisha Acquaye / First Place, 2024 Plentitudes Prize in Nonfiction / ⏳⏳⏳ Imagine my mom as a preteen in Ghana, bursting brown and just...

By Emily Withnall / Second Place, 2024 Plentitudes Prize in Nonfiction / He’d start fights with me on the rare occasions I tried to leave...

By Kosisochukwu W. Ugwuede / Third Place, 2024 Plentitudes Prize in Nonfiction / We are speeding toward Victoria Island—CJ, my driver and...