Sofia Smith

As I unpack a storage bin labeled “CHILDHOOD,” one artifact at a time, I construct a fortress around myself on my bedroom floor. I sort my life story into categories: stuffed animals, elementary school projects, drawings, photographs, cassette tapes, pairs of glasses, baby clothes, cards and letters. I pull a three-ring binder onto my lap. Its plastic sleeve pages archive my father’s letters from Finland. Ever since I immigrated to the United States with my mother and stepfather in 1989, a distance of 4,667 miles has separated me from my father. On approximately 4,667 separate occasions, I have wondered about the troublesome matter of who my father really is....

Adam's Song


Kori Rosset

All the dead people I ever knew got it ended in car accidents, or lived long enough to snatch cancer, except for Adam Palomino who killed himself. But you ...

A State of Cupcake Hermitry


Courtney Telloian

It never would have happened to me if I wasn't such a perfectionist control junkie with a childlike affinity for brightly colored edibles. I don't follow trends for their own sake. And I'm certainly not going to eat all of those cupcakes by myself.

It was for these supposed reasons that I found myself happily awake before five o'clock AM, humming along with the hot water that gurgled down the drain and lathering up the last measuring cup, the pesky no-good third cup measure that you only need once and still have to clean. I looked over my shoulder mid hum- the little golden cakes were rising perfectly. They'd be ready to frost by nine, and then I'd have maybe seven or eight hours until the picnic

My latest passion was baking. And not baking just anything indiscriminately as if all baked goods were equal. Meringues might be bland and tarts might be for tarts, but cupcakes were small, delicious, and versatile...

Picking Sides////Berries


Daniel Dalton

She whispered this through dry, cracked lips. The room was dark and quiet, but I could feel something growing just below the surface: the silent black pressing in around me. Twilight spilled in through my window, barely illuminating the toys and books scattered across the floor. Outside, the trilling lullabies of a lark sparrow trailed off. The heralds of evening would soon retire, but there would be no sleep for me. Not for this night, nor for those to come...