Issue 2.2 Sarah Hulyk Maxwell 3

The Over-Thirty League by Lou Gaglia
“Jesse told me about the over-thirty softball series…”

The Kid Next Door by Zeke Jarvis
“On Tuesday, the neighbors ask Justin to threaten to eat their child…”

What Gets Worn by Jesse Waters
“I needed a suit. I was twenty-four and didn’t have one.”

What You Feed Me by Kelsey Liebenson-Morse
“1. Caramelized Frog’s Hollow Farm peaches and roasted fingerling potatoes….”

Sport by Christopher Lowe
“My father was not a sports fan…`”

Multiple Choice by Matthew Gavin Frank
“A couple of things: 1) At about the same time Grandma Ruth died, my sister…

Gone by Krista Christensen
“I swallow the Xanax like I could swallow truth with it…”

Yo Mama So Fat by Karen Craigo
“If I fall, I’ll make an earthquake.”

Siberia by Sasha West
“The dirt, the rust, the anchored ships, the gangways frozen.”

Museum of Natural History #37, Helen {Keller} by Sasha West
“She launched a thousand stares, a thousand words on the sea of her hands…”

Billy Sunday’s Revival Tent by David Salner
“All summer, light towers blaze,
reflect off sweat.”

Good Vibrations by Daniel Romo
“Who expects lessons from a buff Boston boy.”

Driving at Night in the Rain by Sarah Hulyk Maxwell
“We find ourselves suddenly over open water.”

A lady never wears panty hose with runners by Sarah Hulyk Maxwell
“our stockings classify
us: nonladies.”

$25 Statutory Witness Fee by Sarah Hulyk Maxwell
“I hear the lawyer use the term spiderwebbing to describe her head…”

Meanwhile by Jessica Goodfellow
“Here is a photo of my second son.”

Proper Abcedarian 6: January by Devon Miller-Duggan
“Another bandage, another look-every-stranger-in-the-eyes…”

Proper Abcedarian 1: Turns by Devon Miller-Duggan
“And fall and the light tasting of good scotch, like belief….”

Ill-Suited by Christopher Dollard
“At the mall, the suits I try on for my best friend’s wedding remind me…”

She Went Into the Lobby For a Box of Junior Mints by Gregory Crosby
“The warm & the cool, the embrace & the gaze, the entangled…”

How Did Your Father Spend His Spare Time? by Ace Boggess
“It was the 70s, & I too young to learn gamble…”

Driving at Night in the Rain


We find ourselves suddenly over open water. We think we are on a bridge. No, we think
we were on a bridge, but now aren’t sure, find ourselves singing word salad to stay
awake, to stay on course. We speak truths like, once you drink a full cup of gas station
black coffee, you can drink any coffee black. And you are dreaming of setting us free in
the wild, abandoning the truck and striking off in opposite directions. You are dreaming
of my death and a romantic notion of loss and coping and survival in an age of easy
living, in an age of every once in a while, a reminder of what danger could be—when the
butcher knife slices too fast into a chicken breast or the campfire pops up and out onto the
gravel near our feet or you find you’ve let the water boil all the way out of the pan. I am
on the lookout for moose in the roadway and you are on the lookout for the roadway. You
are dreaming of my death. I remember this again and swerve the truck back on track after
a stray tire. You are dreaming of my death and screaming at me to watch my speed. I
remember the $50 your boss gave you the day before we left for “emergencies,”
something a father would do, but neither of ours has done. Something a father would do,
right? You are dreaming of my death. I remember this again and pull into the opposing
lane of travel to distance us from the stalled car on the shoulder. I hear you yelling and I
am thinking God what kind of woman tells you she wants you dead, and you are yelling
you’ll kill us both.

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