Angel's Lament BY REBECCA COHEN Michael, I swear, some days I just want to rip off these wings, toss the halo, and go drive a bus or something. City bus, school bus—I don’t care. Drive a garbage truck. Easy work, shift work. You’ve got hours of every day off the clock, and two entire days every week you can do any damn thing you want without worrying about a goddamned thing. Simple job. Drive the route, empty the can into the truck, put it back on the curb, drive to the next can. Half an hour at Flo’s: piss and wash, suck down a grilled cheese and some slaw, a coke or some coffee, leav ..read more

MY BODY IS A PUBLIC SPACE BY EJ CLARENCE my body is a public space come in through the spinning turnstile punch in your token validate your ticket to a public square this public road takes you somewhere so you can modify whatever you want that’s the deal when your name is a public space you can alter the look the feel go on take me I’m yours I’m anyone’s really, activate your services so my owners get their cut no t&cs applied do as you please level up your demolition site unpack your pavers in the public place of my limbs then legally remove them deliver them claim them since ..read more

BROKEN HEARTS BY DANIELLE ORR After several years of estrangement, my adoptive sister, who is now but a whisper of her pre-cancerous-self, decided to contact me. She has been snooping around my social media posts without me knowing, and she has decided to come out of the weeds after seeing that I have now found and met my biological father and two sisters. After texting back and forth for over a year, she bravely asked if she could visit me. She soon after flew up to stay with me for four days. She, my beloved baby sister, had not been in contact despite my attempts and she had not bee ..read more

ANEMOIA HOLIDAY BY LORAH GERALD Where I grew up, there was usually snow for the holidays and it sparkled like crystals. I stared out the window as the street light glistened off it. Its beauty mesmerized me, drifting me into another world. In this place, I would see my family around a grand fir brightly lit with packages underneath. My mother would be there in a trendy dress of the time, her dark brown hair cut short.  But it was the eyes. Those piercing eyes. She had an unmistakable resemblance to Elizabeth Taylor. She smiled like a model for the camera. The images were taken for ..read more

FIREWALK BY REBECCA COHEN Firewalk  I The witch in the blue hockey bus. She of the round tarot cards, the friendly insults over backgammon, tea poured from the bill of a porcelain duck. Carol, with her broad open face, piercing blue eyes, and the long wiry black hair she sat on, now, across the tiny table from me. “You should come. It’s transformative,” she said, eyes dancing. I needed transforming, sure, but fire is known to burn skin. The bus smelled of smoke: one small log smoldered in the iron potbelly made for coal. It smelled, too, of sage: drying suspended near the emergenc ..read more

WHO WANTS RICE? BY zhen e rammelsberg Each year, for the holidays, all the food at the table would celebrate and have a wonderful time. Gravy would pair with the mashed potatoes and sometimes the butter, turkey would be stuffed with celery, onions, and pieces of bread … pie would get whipped cream … ham had pineapples on it … green beans were mixed with several things in a casserole! Every food loved being part of the holiday table. They all knew that their ultimate goal was to be delicious and make it down the long, wet slide to Stomach-Land. One year, a new food was introduced: Rice ..read more

Adoption, the Unnatural Family BY ANN MIKESKA Once upon a time, there was a lady and man who started a baby. The lady kept the baby inside her body. Her heartbeat lulled the baby to sleep. Her voice soothed the baby. Her walking rocked the baby. Sometimes the lady cried, and the baby knew the lady was worried and afraid. This made the baby feel scared. The baby wanted the lady. The baby needed the lady. The baby knew the lady. The baby loved her lady very much.  When the baby was big enough to be born, she came into the world. The baby squinted her eyes and looked for the lady. Th ..read more

COMPLICATED CONTRADICTIONS BY KAI HILL True self versus trauma self In the fog versus out of it.   They ask “wouldn’t you rather…”  Would non-adopted me be better? Would non-adopted me be worse off?   I read somewhere that it’s not about better or worse, Life would simply be different But there’s nothing simple about it.    Internal struggles, always with me  Along for the ride come to a screaming boil in my head.   A framework for the rest of my life Expectations The things I walked away from.    Out of the fog  And into the frying pan ..read more

Time Machine BY "Formerly Cocco"  True Story!  It’s Christmas Eve 2022 and no one has yet responded to my two thousand invitations to my Christmas dinner party. Not one! I’m feeling rather despondent about the holidays, and I can see my life up to this point has been somewhat of a failure. My 80-year-old adoptive father—who rarely, if ever, talks to me, perhaps because he doesn’t consider me his REAL son—suggests I attend the Christmas dinner at the local Salvation Army if I really want company. Compassion has never been his forte. Even my choice of professions has been a dis ..read more

Discount Pepper Spray BY CYNTHIA LANDESBERG Costco is my husband’s love language. In an effort to subdue my anxiety around the continued violence against Asian Americans, he walks along the graphite-colored floors with his oversized shopping cart, choosing oversized tokens of love. Rotund cans of hazelnut pirouette wafers to pair with my daily cup of tea, a bag of flour larger than me to satisfy my lustful consumption of the Great British Baking Show, and, last year, a two-pack of pepper spray. Moved by a video of Asian American women lined up in New York City to buy pepper spray, he m ..read more