Author: limestone-admin
-
Ithaca
By Bryan Price [] As the interview was winding down, she ran her hand through her hair distractedly and asked if I’d ever met him—Jean Dagault. I said, once, in Ithaca. She asked me what it was like and I said what was what like? Meeting him or what was he like? She said both or…
-
Bargaining At My Husband’s Bedside, Coronary Step Down Unit, 2002
By Jeanne Bryner “So we move another summer closer to our last summer together—“ –Linda Pastan Your groin’s bruise, purple like mother’s iris. They bloom in June just for your birthday, she lied to the girl I was. The fair’s gone; we can’t be eighteen again. There’s a bell to ring, but no sledge for…
-
Body Doubles
By Katie R McKay I’ve always hated the spring, but it’s the time of year I’m most prone to falling in love. When I think back to that spring, I think about so many things, things like the balmy weather, the day drinking, the rolling nature of the days, one blurring into another in a…
-
my father loves me best at the dim sum table
By Sabrina E. Siew we sit opposite each other, a Sunday tradition. the chrysanthemums pushed down in hot water, like the knees of his tar-haired child on American soil. only one teacup quiet on tablecloth, he doesn’t ask for more, but orders my bing seoi before I can speak. here, I am little, the lazy…
-
Indio, California
By Britt Astrid Alphson There is a viciousness about it, Indio. Bark scorpions and the collapsing of breath, of time, of anything besides a careening sort of heat. The Morongo Casino Resort juts from the soil like some beckoning reptilian creature: the older patrons with their rotting teeth, acres folded upon acres of fuck-you-green putting…
-
In Praise of Dirt
By David Salner Dirt, dust, and mud; gumbo of ground bone; two million femurs in wet earth of the wide and charming Volga; Tibia shards underfoot near the placid Elbe; not to mention cranium bits along the meandering waters of the Vistula; and the tidal Ota, whose sediment is home to delicate wrists, all those…