
Nonfiction 6.2
For Women it is a Shame to be Hungry
by hannah carpino
“Think about the radio and how it was always tuned to 104.1. Think about Old Farms Road, coasting to a stop at night in the dead center, and rolling down the windows silently. It was a game; you don’t remember its name anymore…“
The Rio Grande
by thomas cook
“Canadian geese stand in chili fields off the banks in Albuquerque while the water turns in on itself off the rocks. I’ve walked through a lavender field to be here, the smell hanging in my sweater and on the backs of my chilled hands…”
Peacock
by thomas cook
“There is no light on the farm, and my sneakers on the gravel path seem to echo to the mountains, shade upon shade on the horizon. I’m looking for a place to sit out of the cold…”
State of Beef
by thomas cook
“A long swim through the excrement of chickens reminds me there is no place for xenophobia in this world. Thousands of hands pack thousands of pounds for their daily bread, and the land glistens with fat during drought in the same way it cradles the toxic flood….”
After the Beep
by rachel a.g. gilman
Meditations on a Slug
by rick kempa
“My mind moves sluggishly much of the time—like a slug, this pudgy porous creature millimetering outside my door. Look how perfectly it forms itself around whatever surface it’s traversing, the way two lovers’ bodies fit each other head-to-toe, no matter what their separate sizes are when they’re afoot….”
Amanda
by lita kurth
“A little Lutheran church out in the country, not yet gentrified into “charming,” gives you hard, dark wooden pews, chilly air, and an old bell calling dutiful Germans to change out of their cow-shit-covered barn boots, dress up, and sing serious, organ-emphasized hymns written four hundred years ago….”
Journey to Ithaca
by sofia martimianakis
“Did you know there’s a tiny church on the island of Dia? We planned to swim to shore and light a candle to absolve ourselves from the sinful acts of the night before. I dove in first. The water was crystal clear. It felt especially refreshing after sitting on that hot fishing boat for hours….”
Flitzani
by sofia martimianakis
“I was eight years old when I discovered I was basically the equivalent of a Greek witch. No, I don’t wear a pointy hat or ride a broomstick. I read flitzania. I can see into your past, uncover secrets from your present, and give insight into your future all from the grounds you leave behind after drinking a small cup of bitter Greek coffee…”