Rebecca van Laer

When we got back to the States, the cats turned their noses up at us. They were cosmopolitan now. What did we have to offer them except the same pâté as usual? Aware of their disdain, we did the only thing we could to win their affection back: let them outside . . .

C. Dale Young

They say you lose track of time, and so
I cannot tell you how long I have 
dipped my hands in this river that promises
a shimmering of gold. I dip my hands 
and filter the moving current finding only 
rocks, small fish, and detritus . . .

Pietro Federico

From East Canyon Road
to the few houses of Mayfield,
the wind howls, chases me, reaches me,
and rubs his muzzle on my palms 
and I spread my fingers.
Is it me unleashing it on Arapien Valley? . . .

Shaan Sachdev

When the Stanford man broke up with me, he told me it was because he needed to date someone more “average.” He told me that intellectualizing and reading tomes were for graduate school, not the stuff of romance . . .