Paint by Natalie Bradbeer
Wheelton: a town named for the wheel standing at the heart of it, tall and wide and orange as an autumn oak. Everyone in town knows the wheel, but its origin and…
Wheelton: a town named for the wheel standing at the heart of it, tall and wide and orange as an autumn oak. Everyone in town knows the wheel, but its origin and…
Launch a campaign or initiative or whatever. Optimize the whole deal. Turn it on live. Consume another cola/coffee/tea/energy drink, but be expedient. A busy bee gathers no moss. Management hasn’t yet perfected…
Opinions differ on how long micro fiction is – some say 300 words, others say fewer – but for the sake of this article I’m going to cap the maximum at 100…
Clare has a problem with depression. And anxiety. And panic attacks. But thanks to her therapist, the depression is gone, and the anxiety only returns when she’s triggered. And that’s what she’s…
its gold and orange fruit glowed among the vivid green of its leaves, every piece lovingly handmade in pottery, it hung from a strong double fork of Bolivian wood – dark with…
You solemnly snap twigs as you tell me: what I already knew but somehow didn’t. Something implausible passes between us. Eighteen spots. I count them three times in the drawn-out silence. The…
The scientists could not believe it. Environmentalists said it was a gift. Governments claimed great victories. Businesses clasped their hands in what looked like relief. Celebrations took place everywhere and everyone let…
Momma always sings as she hangs the washing: praises for the sky stretching never-endingly above us; the sun warming our skin, sinking into our flesh, nourishing. I’m the eldest, so I get…
When I got back from Nam and started going to Morgan State on the GI Bill, I rented an apartment on Northern Parkway. Trouble was, it had two bedrooms, so I had…
The cavern inside her chest is dark, full of excerpts. They enter through her auricle, these broken fragments of other people’s lives. Snippets of drama slide through her tympanic membrane, particles of…
My mother stands in my mind with her arms outstretched. Her chin is lifted, ever so slightly, to greet the sun that spills in through the window. Her fingers twitch as if…
Last night I dreamed my daughter had been born. Her father and I were in a coffee shop, and I was doing complex origami with a long bolt of silk to secure…