ABRAR AHMAD It is a stormy evening in a forested area. Downpour is torrential
ALAMGIR HASHMI I Briefed my Camel
ALAN BERECKA My friend Pete Merkl’s dad sold copiers.
ALI KO This photo is representative of an idea I had
ALISA HOPE WAGNER
ALLYSON CHAVEZ LARKIN
ALYANNA MENA Can’t tell, tale this time
AMISHI BHASIN It came Neither as
ANDREA PEREZ Memories from a past life You can’t regret or forget
BOB JAMES The dulcet tones of “Morning Flower” rudely interrupted my sleep
BRENDA RIOJAS. You’ve found me.
CADENCE S. OLIVAREZ There are no obscurities when it comes to grief
CAROL MAYS has written or co-written 2 books. Read some of her work
CATIE BARBER The message said Your daughter has been found dead
CHARLES ETHERIDEGE Thirty-three thousand tons of steel...
CHELSEA BROTHERTON I relapsed today into my old ways.
CHRISTIAN GARDUNO Find me some buds before too long in the afternoon
CHRISTOPHER ASHWORTH I am Broken
CLARA TAMEZ Would You Still Love Me
COFFEE CAT When I was a Kid I told myself I’d never live past 25
CRYSTAL GARCIA My ears are open
CYNTHIA BREEDING Elizabeth O’Malley was falling, gliding through mists, hurdling downward, the air getting darker
CYNTHIA GIERY Another gray morning, spent walking under the harbor bridge. I have a weird fascination with the angles
CORY STARYK During the winter, I head back home to see the family.
DAVID CARPENTER "Monica and Jerry are assholes."
DEVORAH FOX She unlocked the door to the business office, housed in an old, wood-framed cabin separate from the main resort building.
DONNA HUDDLESTON When the front door opened
DONNA LEA ANDERSON
D. WEISS If for a moment they had ever doubted the existence of twin telepathy
DYLAN LOPEZ Against the foreign hour’s demands
ELISSA BREWSTER When you are a kid, things just are the way they are.
ESTHER BONILLA READ My mother was a product of the Great Depression.
F.E.I. The harbor...
FREDRICK GONZALES The day we left was the saddest day of my life
GERALD BECKMAN Short Fiction
Gerald Beckman The Family
Gerald Beckman Roughnecks and Rednecks
Gerald Beckman Powder Road
GRADY HUNTER My experiences as a widowed and somewhat-senior male when venturing into a kitchen
GRANT MAYS 14:30 Hours 2:30. Doesn’t matter that it’s well into day planetside in N.A. To Eric 14:30 felt as shit as 04:30
EMMA HELENE GUERRA all we seem to know is how to count coins in the dark.
HEATHER TWARDOWSKI It’s funny how quickly things can change
JACQUELINE GONZALEZ Sitting in the corner while my world is going dim,
JASON BOND short fiction
JASON BOND Born Again
JAVIER VILLAREAL From its banks
one questions the willows holding
JEN DESELMS November 11. Old Lady Surf Report: Fall is officially here
JENNIFER FLORENCE Today was a high gravity day -- very high gravity.
JILL HAND One Thanksgiving my mother made a turkey out of Spam
FRANK RODRIGUEZ That smile, that dang demented smile.
JIM MCCUTCHON. A funny thing happened to me last night. Not funny in the sense of humorous
JIMMY WILDEN At some point, the alcohol in my bloodstream subsided long enough for me to become
JO ANN SANDERSON Friends, relatives, and acquaintances thought Maria was a clever lady.
JODY HEYMANN When a popular Texas State Senator running for reelection hires an assassin to solve his problem
JOEL ORTIZ Spying UFOs in the desert
JOHN BALFOUR. Martin Gerber was a small man, always dressed in a white shirt, grey pants, and a rather ugly green tie with pictures of golf clubs covering it that his wife had gotten him
JOHN MEZA I walked across
Five centuries Of colonial blood
JOHN MORRIS Castaway - I'm called to the beach seemingly every day
JOHN SWINBURN Early that morning, at daybreak, a shallow, nearly opaque layer of water-hugging mist flowed in through the quiet marina
Who Is JOHNNY JEBSEN and why is he emailing me?
JON GREGORY As my cool, efficient car Cut a metal swath Through a brisk night
JOSHUA ESPITIA Please insert or swipe your card.Wait that breathless few seconds
JOSHUA BRIDGWATER HAMILTON Desiccate splintered forest ground up and spat out
JOSE OLIVARES Please close the windows, the air is burning my face
JOSEPH WILSON one hundred years ago
JUAN PEREZ fully past the fallin the winter of it all
JOHN PETTIGROVE Two hundred years ago
JOHN KEMMERLY Various accounts of Ernest Hemingway’s visit to Port Aransas
JUDY BLOOMQUIST I am Molly
KAILEY HAMAUEI Off Ocean Drive in the old neighborhoods the homes have all been through the cycle: growth, stability, decline, and revitalization.
KAREN CLINE-TARDIFF My husband wears his red-brown skin like a badge of honor.
KEN DIERCOUFF A little too much salt. Surely too sweet.
KENNETH BENNIGHT The blue chick’s bright mane was no yellower than a jonquil and her clothes no skimpier than a clumsy pickpocket’s purse.
KERSTIN BERGER Maya was
KIMBERLY WARD Icing Event
KRISTI SPRINKLE woke up today in clarity's sense of sheer happiness
KRISTOPHER CISNEROS he was my passenger
LEE HULTIN I woke in the dark room.
LESLIE LEA In a flower wreath
LISA MASON On July 4, 1980, my neighbors and I...
LIZZ FRAGA COSGROVE I’m running late again…
LIZBETTE OCASIO-RUSSE Abou Loverbar
SISTER LOU ELLA HICKMAN after a poetry reading i was asked
LOUISE PETTIGROVE One of the barriers Wallis
LUCAS DIERCOUFF HARVEY TATE REPORTING: “This footage can give you…the heebie-jeebies!
MALIA PEREZ Her nails are like those of a new-aged vampire
MANDY ASHCRAFT Slowly, over time, the story of your life was written not in ink but in heroin
MARIAH HINOJOSA Isn’t it funny That poetry
MATTHEW ROSAS On Saturday mornings, my brother and I would wake up early
MIKE MERCER Fiction and Poetry
Mike Mercer Forever Alone
Mike Mercer Blue Tequila Cantina
MICHELLE ECCELENTE STEVENSON The cacophony of noise
MONA SCHROEDER Cecilia Kendall watched the mid-morning El Paso sun slip through the closed blinds in her breakfast room
MICHELLE COBB BLAIR It's kinda weird
MOLLY BECKMAN BIRKETT
NANDITA BANERJEE For the nth time
NAUSHER NASH BANAJI Poetry
NEESY TOMPKINS Essays and Commentary
NEINA CHAPA The smallest breeze sends dead
NICK MARTINEZ Short Fiction
NIKKI IKONOMOPOULOS Whispering wind scream
OLIVIA NOBLE Play the moth game, inspired by the short stories of V. Woolf
PATTY ALANIZ No.. she was not your typical girl.
PAUL GONZALES I heard the beeps first. Machines placed around me
PAUL McCANN I can easily go back and sandle my high school linoleum
PW COVINGTON Destroy your desires with dynamite
RAVEN YODER Nineteen years ago, a time when my knees barely rose above the willowy grass of our lawn
REBECAH HALL Should you ask me what defines poetry
ROBERTA DOHSE I once read a book about a woman who ran away from her life,
ROBIN CARSTENSEN Dear Search Committee for English Faculty at Midwest Prairie University:
ROBIN CHANIN I was 17 years old
ROGER LAWRENCE The December cold fronts this year have forced small rodents
RON GEORGE I hear the voice of Jesus on the Cross:
SARAH K. LENZ Whenever I saw her tricycle, with its giant reflectors and ugly metal basket,
SARAH K. LENZ Eigenzeit
SARA KAPLAN The Shoal Creek vitex
SCOTT WAYLAND GRIFFIN While I was working in the shop last night, an opossum decided to come visit.
SHANNON DOUGHERTY Kept fed, the bull alligator basks on the grass
SKOOT LARSON So I was watching television; the eleven o’clock news.
SKYLAR PIERCE There is a cozy town named Mentisdolum. With its greenery and thick fog, it is one
S. MATT READ It’s flat where I am, and dusty.
STEPHEN GAMBILL Hope is like
SYDNEY SPANGLER When I was a child I would take a straw and blow air into my chocolate milk
S. P. WILKINS
SUSAN DAUBENSPECK. Because my daughter, Emily, had moved to Saudi Arabia
THERESA GARCIA-RUIZ Like the eye of a storm, the mirador is a quiet moment
THOMAS RAY GARCIA
TOM DIFRANCESCA Much to the old man’s surprise, Charles H. Flato Elementary School on West Santa Gertrudis Avenue in Kingsville
TOM MURPHY In this God forsaken Bible
Rust Belt, Margaret Screws
Tonāntzin Rodríguez Traveling is the Gift of Self Love
TREV TREVINO because it is late at night you listen to the trees and close your eyes
TRISH KOVAL Was on the road, and as I'm driving down swoops a dove from the overpass bridge and lands smack dab in my lane.
WAYNE HANKINS Seventy laps
WILLIAM CHRISS I can’t sleep. Sirens whine and pulses of light flash red on the walls of this dingy hotel.
WIL HENNEBERGER I love Tom Cruise. So what if he’s nuts or part of some religion crazier than all the other crazy religions?
WILLIAM MAYS In the time of covid
WILLIAM WALTON Jake sat on the shaded porch of his Texas Hill Country home well into his second six-pack of the afternoon.
ZER We are under the trellis of Nueva Vita, a garden that murmurs with heaves of impatiens
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