Someone holds the makeshift beach up from one end, and the world floods, swell surging to one side of the homemade wave machine before the water rushes back, quick, aggressive, eroding bits of the science fair project with violence before softening slowly, slowly. Repetition eventually grinds everything down to nothing. We are supposed to make …
Literary Nonfiction Editor Kristen Iversen: What I admire most about this essay is the author’s courage in confronting a subject that is both deeply personal and, regrettably and even tragically, part of a wider cultural experience. Montgomery’s memories, lyrical style, skillful metaphors, and forthright engagement with a persistent and often frightening cultural problem are especially …
I run from the house, pushing the dusty screen from its window frame and sliding my body down the stucco side. I am seven when I run, my fingertips soiled by the escape, my palms and little-girl thighs scratched by the rough wall, the resistance, the dirt upon impact. This is the first time I …