Issue 3.3

Issue No 3.3
Elusion by Sarah Marie Kosch
“Luckily, Becca rescued the family photo album before Mother could X-acto all of the pictures. She hid it on the shelf above her bed…”

Heat Index by Brenda Miller and Julie Marie Wade
In the 16th century, shipping companies often paid sailors in rations of rum. The sailors (always wary of the bosses) learned how to see if they were being ripped off…”

Quả Hồng Vàng by Kelly Morse
“That first autumn in Hanoi I didn’t eat persimmons because I’d mismatched books and life. A Chinese apple, your teacher said…”

The Radiators in Ellen Reed House by Liz Ahl
“have been pushing their ancient water
through these plaster walls…”

The Radium Girls by Liz Ahl
“Time used to tick, to trip,
to click between …”

Saturn V by Liz Ahl
“Unlike grief, escape
has only three stages…”

Honeysuckle by Maggie Bailey
“is taste not scent,
memory pulling…”

Alternative Air Source by Bobby Bolt
“If the ocean is only a sequence of shared breaths,

Then you may dream your way across…”

Physical Geography Lecture by Bobby Bolt
“I hope you’re taking notes: The nature of nature
is to move,…”

He’s a wildflower by Austin Eichelberger
“jaw decorated with soft thorns…”

Heat Wave by Jennifer Highland
“Bronx summer streets
smelling of piss and petunias…”

The Insulators by Jennifer Highland
“We try to keep the weather here controlled,
and so we softly barricade…”

Climate Change my Body by Jenny McBride
“The warmest years on record
and my body is coming into its own…”

Last Day to Save on Sarah Jaeger’s “Throwing and Alternative Video” by Andrea Witzke Slot
“sign me up for the master class of how.
Train me to…”

The Palm of Proprioception by Andrea Witzke Slot
“The sense of touch arrives early, long before the others…”

Unpacking by Larry Thacker
“My father is fresh back from Vietnam.
I see this in a memory I shouldn’t…”

Recipe by Patti White
“Say it began with an oven so hot…”

Boûts-Rimés: God’s Grandeur (1934) by Katherine Williams
“In black-and-white, five children in a god-
forsaken shanty of loose boards…”

For My Father, Who Will Someday Die by P.J. Williams
“Likely because his lungs
have turned umber, lost…”

Candling by Annie Woodford
“Short and sort of defeated even then…”

Melisma by Annie Woodford
“You love the radio,
love the thump & pop…”

A Note From the Editor:

As a child, I had a hard time making friends. My interests and introverted nature made most kids avoid me and kept me isolated. For a time, I was fine with that. At recess, when most other children would gather up and gossip while playing games and sports, I would find a comfortable spot underneath the oak tree just a stone’s throw from the jungle gym, open up a book, and read. The only company I needed, apart from the rustling leaves and the wind blowing through them, was a story that could engross me and take me to another world.

But I quickly realized that I needed more than that. The stories were great, but I felt the longing of another’s company. I didn’t want to play tag, to giggle with others as we ran around the playground like hellions, or to share secrets and gossip with friends like the other kids, but I knew that I wanted more than I had. It began to sour even my love of books. Those worlds I loved became more monochrome. The characters I loved grew more distant, and I felt myself less eager to join them.

In order to rekindle some of my love for stories and ignore the pervasive sense of loneliness, I threw myself into the school library. I had found a series of books that I was particularly fond of: The Johnny Dixon Series by John Bellairs. These gothic horror novels managed to captivate the more macabre portions of my imagination. On one particular day, I was walking back towards the horror section of the library when I stumbled into another kid kneeling down in front of the books. I must have startled him, for as I arrived, his head whirled around and his glasses fell to the floor. I picked them up and handed them to him. We spent the entirety of that recess sitting in the library, talking about our favorite parts of the series.

Literature has the very unique power to bring people together across space and time. While Chuck Bellairs no longer lives, his work gave me a lifelong friend and a happier childhood. His words will continue to go on to entertain readers and to create bonds between those who read his work. That is the power of literature; it unites us across time and space, providing entertainment and provoking deeper thought.

We here at Rappahannock Review have worked for the last four months to bring you this selection from some of the finest writers I have had the pleasure to read. These works mark the legacy of writers who work tirelessly to hone their craft and captivate readers. I hope that these pieces not only engross you, but also inspire you to share them with someone. Who knows? You may help someone find their next favorite piece, and you may find your next great relationship.

Carter Nordike, Editor in Chief