A Working Family
The mother told the child to ask the father if the child’s friend could come over tomorrow so that the two children could finish…
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A Quiet Year
Diagram these bodies of the old order. They carried us to the shoreline, but no more. The bodies tell us they are frightened in…
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POLLYANNA-ISH I: JUST BREATHING ISN’T LIVING
Pollyanna-ish is a column about the process of becoming (undefinable). Exploring the intersection between life and art, these essays will explore and intermingle different aspects…
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Don’t @ Me (An Interior Monologue): March
Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be a cis, demisexual woman navigating the world in a nontraditional body? In this ongoing column,…
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LAVENDER ADDICT: A DEEP-SEA THRILLER PART II
I The detective returns just as expected. Smoking an e-cigarette, she leans tall over me and taps the stem,…
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Big Red
CW: animal slaughter It is a gruesome alchemy that turns a life into a meal, and I have performed it; I have killed. Big…
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Youth Brainwashing And The Extremist Cults
Holly Friedlander Liddicoat is a poet, editor and performer who has previously been published in Cordite, Otoliths, Rabbit, Seizure,…
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We Were Like Sisters
We were like sisters, you and I. And this, while we already had sisters. Lots of them; too many between us. A girl can’t…
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A Roman Computer Limb, Monitoring Clouds
I have no interest in being grandiose or seeking attention just trace my steps forward in the dark of a free afternoon and know…
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