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The Lord's Earth

Callie Collins

The whole town of Garland sweltered and glistened. There was fog for months that fall, and the sun hung behind it round and shining like the moon or a piece of fruit. It was hard for Roger to stick around, so he didn’t. Then, after some years, men came to his door.


Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction   

Asians & Simple Math

Natalie Wee

Her dough-tipped fingers sparrow another pale moon into fullness as a giant beast clouds the thicket of bamboo upon its back with steam. Enough heat can turn a lake into air, the sea into some memory of having once held breath underwater.

Cut of the Blade

James Grabill

They continue to throw salmon shadows darkening the spectrum as it prisms into conditions, leaving a ruin of bleached coral in regret...

The Lord's Earth

Callie Collins

The whole town of Garland sweltered and glistened. There was fog for months that fall, and the sun hung behind it round and shining like the moon or a piece of fruit. It was hard for Roger to stick around, so he didn’t. Then, after some years, men came to his door.

A Door, Prone, Crushing a Field of Flowers

Michael Schmeltzer

I am at my threshold. / The dirt of our daughter. / The mole of her squirming body.

From the Archives

Driftless

Joe Fletcher

The ghosts of men who named the river / suckle moon-limned mist slipping down / from thick firefly-flickering treelines...

Interview: Geetha Iyer

Kim Vera

Of course Sarla’s story became its own thing as it was being written, and a much more personal voice emerged. And for me, personal voices are problematic...

Interview with Brian Van Reet

Brian Van Reet, winner of the Gulf Coast Prize in Fiction, talks with Gulf Coastintern Melissa Dziedzic about his story, “The Window.” Melissa Dziedzic:…

One Girl In Particular

Elizabeth Fennell

Mom is pregnant. In nine months, our family will never be the same. Our father won't make it. A baby will. Today we will go skiing. My mother calls for directions.

From the Blog

On Violence

$138,000 into the story, there is nowhere else to go. I spent my twenty-seventh year typing letters of application, the nerves in each hand wrecked by…

On Shame

156,000 into the story, the room is empty.   The man I have started dating listens to my stories of how the dinners at the American Academy would unfold,…