In our current issue, we feature a story by Siân Griffiths, “Wooden Spoons,” which describes a man watching his estranged daughter on a cooking competition. Today, to accompany the story, we offer you Griffiths’s “Scones: A Recipe,” just in time for baking for Saint Lucia’s Day or your next holiday party. Enjoy! …
was always our tax status. There’s no lovein money. Sometimes there’s no love in love.Sometimes love is a fish-gillslit in your heart through which you learnto breathe. That’s how it was.When I found the long silver hooksof another woman’s earringsin his bathroom drawer, I raisedan eyebrow. I said, “Oh.” Sometimesa waterspout rises from the lake …
Assistant Editor Molly Reid: In Mahreen Sohail’s hybrid piece, “Iddat,” a definition evolves. What seems initially to be prohibitive—a list of men a widow is required to avoid during the prescribed Islamic period of mourning—becomes celebratory, a reclamation of self. With incantatory grace, Sohail takes us into a pleasantly shaded corner of what might …
title from Hippocrates, translated by David Hayden Camden my body wants a babydespite the circumstances, the ramen at the kitchen sink at midnight,the bargain-bin fruit, jelly-soft and splitting, the amex too sharpat the register, drawing blood.the whole world is having a baby. my cousin is having a baby, any day now, gray and grainy on …
Editorial Assistant Alex Evans: The realities of being a graduate student in creative writing are such that I have very little time to read outside of my coursework. However, for the past few months, I’ve been using whatever spare moments I can find to revisit some of my favorite novels and collections of the past few …
It’s that time of year again, when across North America leaves fall from deciduous trees, people gather together indoors to eat more food than they should, and literary journals compile nominations for the Pushcart Press and other important anthologies. We find this to be a tough season: less light, expanding waistlines, and having to …
The Sentence My father’s heart exhausted itself. Cardiac arrest, the cardiologist said. A man was arrested in my Ugandan village when I was a child. A few years later he was released, only to steal and get sentenced again. Release can mean its opposite—”stretch out again” from Latin. Acquire back. So, this catch-release-and-release went on …
Assistant Editor Caitlin Doyle: In “Iraq Good,” poet and veteran Hugh Martin presents a scene that bristles with tension. As an American soldier stationed in Iraq, the poem’s speaker paces with his fellow servicemen outside of the Sadiyah police compound while several small Iraqi boys linger nearby. The children engage in pretend fights (they “chop …
Señora Pérez’s house was too small for the four of us to go inside. El Míster and my abuela waited out front. My mom and me sat at the round table in the corner of the kitchen, my mom stabbing the rotary dial with her index finger. Sra. Pérez sat on her sofa watching a …
Assistant Editor Molly Reid: In Kristine Ong Muslim’s devastating piece, she doesn’t allow the reader to look away, and what she shows us—a timeline of human “advancement,” from early hominids to our eminent extinction—is part-history lesson, part-prophesy, and all gut-punch stunning. In her own words, “Holocene: Microfilm Reel 82” is “a conceptual piece, a …
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