Issue 23 / Fall 2020 Outside, it’s a typical Miami summer. Tourists have left the city. Throats gulp 100% humidity while sweat falls plump. Inside, the house reeks sickly sweet. Shalimar and disinfectant. Febreze and bleach. Like desert mirages, the air...
Issue 23 / Fall 2020 My mom’s biological dad, Don, dies in January. His wife calls me at 9 am and I pick up. The caller ID says, “Calico Rock, Arkansas.” I never visited him there, but my mom did. She came back home and told me about how they fished for catfish or...
Issue 22 / Summer 2020 Why Do You Feel Always Sad? You’re depressed Of course, you know objectively this is probably why you feel Always Sad, but it doesn’t seem like quite the right reason anymore. You know for sure that this is why you are extra tired. And...
Issue 22 / Summer 2020 We were all farm animals to Alfonso: waiters were burros; waitresses were burras; prep cooks, dish washers, and bus boys were bueys. Instead of the colloquial, “Que onda, wey?” Alfonso would say, “Que onda, buey?” When I...
Issue 22 / Summer 2020 i. It is 6:00am and I am in the woods. This is not unusual. Often I find myself here, walking a well-worn park trail on the northwest side of DC during that time of morning when the light is both gentle and bright, like a miracle freshly...
