Apr 6, 2023 | All Fiction, Issue 7, Issue 7 Prose
Last week, I bought a secondhand cookbook bound together by three rubber bands. On the front cover, someone painted a fisherman hiking along the streambed while a pale cloud of smoke billowed from beyond the tree line. No information in the surviving pages...
Apr 6, 2023 | All Poetry, Issue 7, Issue 7 Poetry
All that summer we made toast. In some sort of trance- phase like anime or teenage rebellion, where only toast sounded good. I fixed yours with mock fatigue- spreading butter, sharp scrape of inconvenience, feigned burnt by demands for toast with- out gratitude. Fixed...
