By Belle Waring / Fiction /         “Learn to obey, you who are but dust! Learn to humble yourself, you who are but earth and clay!” —Thomas à Kempis It wasn’t like we kept people prisoner. You could just walk off down the driveway if you wanted, two lines of dark grayish brown curving into dusk, with the huge oaks over it, and the hummock between. We would pla y that was f airy hills with the green moss, and the little things like fir trees, and slender, tiny orange mushroo

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

By Sophie Hamel / Fiction /         From the stone bleachers of Delphi’s ancient theater, the view of the Parnassus mountains had a...

By Anna Schachner / Flash /   1. The weeping willow tree in our front yard was a neighborhood landmark and jungle gym, although I thought...

By Pam Clements / Flash /   Crushed oyster shells, attractive crunchy walking paths, exist all over the South Carolina lowcountry. ...

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

By Ines Rodrigues / Fiction /   “…for nothing is more unbearable, once one has it, than freedom.” James Baldwin (“Giovanni’s Room”)  ...

By Anthony Lee Head / Fiction / Only moments before, I had been driving towards a fiery ball glowing like a distant beacon on the...

By Daniela Paraguya Sow / Poetry / Romela roams through Cebu City Library, sifting through shelves for me. Romela returns with the faded...

By Monica L. Woo / Nonfiction / Slow-quick-quick. Slow-slow-quick-quick. My mother demonstrated the steps of the Foxtrot. Gently clasping...

By Chris Barton / Poetry / On Rockaway Beach, they eat blood orange cake and suffer fashionably. How much sleep to devour one murked...

By Gale Huxley / Fiction / Elaine was found in the city woods, where a few too many walked. Her eyes had been half-digested in a...

By Mark Martin / Fiction / The four of them—two adults and two children—languished in a parked car held immobile by the rain. The weather...

By Frederick Pollack / Poetry / We have reached the smallest place. The crew doesn’t understand my plan, my map— they think some...

By Alan Sincic / First Place, 2023 Plentitudes Prize in Nonfiction / We all of us like to believe, now and again, when the body blooms...

By Peggy L. Shrum / Third Place, 2023 Plentitudes Prize in Nonfiction / A tree just fell. It must have been really close by; I startled...

By Daniel W.K. Lee / Poetry / I wonder if there will ever again be a child named Katrina here inside this sickle of the Mississippi or...

Sans Souci, Trinidad By Ivy Raff / Poetry / Terrible as she is turquoise, the sea chops, roars, wakes shock of forest-clothed hills,...

By Ernest Langston / Fiction / The two-lane road curved up and into a pine tree forest. Country-styled houses were sprinkled along the...

By Susan Knox / Nonfiction / I was a forlorn five-year-old in 1946 when we left the bungalow where I’d lived all my life. I loved that...

By Iris Harris / Fiction / “I know it’s your week with Sam starting tonight, but I don’t think you need to come all the way down to the...