Issue 15 / Fall 2018 The hum and swoosh of the ventilator echo constantly in the small room in the ICU. My 37-year-old husband, Michael, lies as if asleep—his eyes closed, his face rosy and serene, his injury invisible. A thick, white bandage swathes his head....
Issue 15 / Fall 2018 We are elbow deep in the dark, loamy soil we made from our own compost. I used to think getting dirt under my nails was good for me, that the energy radiating from the center of the earth would balance me. Now, I’m not sure of anything,...
Issue 15 / Fall 2018 I was determined to be a model grandmother. Less than two years ago, my charming but guarded and somewhat anxiety-prone son, Zach, finally married Becky, his gem of a girlfriend. And three months ago, they had their first child. When they...
Issue 15 / Fall 2018 At first, none of them said anything to one another. They never said anything to their wives either, or their sons when the sons came to the fathers, terror in their eyes, we did not think it would be like this. The fathers did not know...
Issue 15 / Fall 2018 When I received my high school aptitude tests results, smuggling drugs wasn’t one of the vocations listed. “Honey, we’re home!” I was startled awake by Danny yelling when he and Steve entered the hotel room; smells of exhaust fumes, fresh...
