Mother touches their face and blinks like Morse code. No one understands her. I translate and do the readings for our tribe. Sometimes she picks up her stick and hits…
The Coffin Club
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Hannah Grieco
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We heard about it on the radio Sunday morning: Older people in New Zealand were forgoing book groups in favor of coffin clubs. They were learning carpentry and reminding themselves…
War Crimes
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Bronwen Griffiths
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I The endless sifting of papers. The noting of names and dates. The cross-checking, referencing, the words, photographs, videos, recordings and interviews. The tears. The coffees, the discussions, the sadness.…
Lepidoptera Breaks
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Anna O'Brien
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I broke my right collarbone falling off a horse. Bucked, rather. She bucked me off. An act of violent defiance, after knowing me a whole thirty minutes. Clearly, a decision…
A Suburbia of Volcanoes
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Justin Karcher
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It sounds like Pat’s building an ark in the garage, but he’s tearing apart a cedar shelf so we have wood for the bonfire, ‘cause it’s almost nighttime in North…