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Author: Sarah Walsh

, | By Noel Sloboda

[ December 17, 2014 ]

Dear University Office of Risk Management (III)

Dear University Office of Risk Management (III) You will find with this letter three vials of my blood to help with the university’s new wellness initiative. My aversion to blood made me avoid the mobile-medical-unit that visited campus last week to collect samples from employees. With that acknowledged, I understand that the blood will be …

, | By Noel Sloboda

[ December 16, 2014 ]

Dear University Office of Risk Management (II)

Dear University Office of Risk Management (II) I wanted you to know about an imminent threat to the campus community presented by changes to our dental plan. Specifically, I am concerned about the elimination of benefits for family members of university employees. More specifically, my wife’s teeth matter a great deal to me. The origin …

, | By Noel Sloboda

[ December 15, 2014 ]

Dear University Office of Risk Management

Dear University Office of Risk Management Please do not be concerned about the fire alarm that was pulled in the library last Thursday afternoon: I did this to test our evacuation procedures. I was concerned that there had not been a single drill this semester. In the event of a real emergency, everybody should have …

, | By Kathy Drasher

[ December 5, 2014 ]

, | By Andrew Gottlieb

[ December 2, 2014 ]

Monsters

  When I was seven, I built plastic models, scaled military replicas made by Revel, Taiko, and other Japanese or American or German brands with characters, English words, and other languages and alphabets sprinkled on the boxes like confetti. This confetti surrounded painted depictions of the vehicle in action. I could sit, building, for hours. …

, | By Carol Clark Williams

[ November 28, 2014 ]

Heritage

There is no word for “freedom” in biology; in family idiom, no concept of the Self. Cruel monsters of my childhood still surface, lurking too close in the genetic pool. How can I stand apart? When will I be my own? In hostile mirrors I reflect my sister’s face and carry out the day’s routine …

, | By Carol Clark Williams

[ November 26, 2014 ]

Defenses Down

  What if they are the true perceptions of your life, those thoughts which come at two in the morning, when shadows twist and shift like lunatics and darkness presses its cold fingertips hard against your straining eyes? What if the dull rage in the dregs of booze glazing the last ice cubes, at the …

, | By Carol Clark Williams

[ November 24, 2014 ]

Mother’s Night

  Night in the house of my childhood invaded more than corners: it crept into the soul, a golem breeding nightmares. Awakened by my screams, mother came to my bedside offering comfort. She sat there, a dark shadow, her glinting eyes in deeper pools of darkness. And I agreed that I was comforted, oh quickly …

, | By Dustin Lincoln Wells & Beth Mussay

[ November 10, 2014 ]

I Never Met My Brother

I have a brother. I never met him. His name is Mark. He’s the same age as I am. Mark only lived thirty miles away from me the entire time we were growing up. I was in Lebanon, Pennsylvania and he lived near Harrisburg, the state capital. Our father, Billy Lee Wells, already had a …

, | By Karen Uhlmann

[ October 27, 2014 ]

As Big as a Boat

Leaving the airport is what frightens her, walking from the cocoon of baggage carousels and rental car booths out into the brightness of the California sun. Natalie loves planes, the enormous airlessness of them, the cold of the window pressed against her cheek, and the efficient flight attendants with their carts full plastic dinner trays …