Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 33.1
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 33.1
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 33.1
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 33.1
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 33.1
Set chopped up his rival Osiris and scattered the pieces across the world. Isis was the first queen and the first witch. The first spell went like this: For a year Isis roamed the earth gathering up …
Sometimes, when I apologize to my husband during an argument, I picture cartoon versions of us, our bodies turned into stereotypes. An Asian woman, curtained by her hair, lowers her head into her …
In Iraq I said that word so much, heard it so often. I came home and found myself still saying it. Shrapnel's shell was first used against the Dutch at Surinam (now Guyana). The Dutch were so taken …
For more years than were good for me, I worked as an editor and staff writer for an art magazine. My co-editor, Jennifer, had a valuable talent for finding humor in the dull routine tasks and …
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 32.2
This would not be the first or last time for either of us. Nor was it my first time trying to reason through it, trying to rationalize the kind of violence that felt everywhere and always and hardly …
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 32.2
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 32.2
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 32.2
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 32.2
Exclusively available in the print edition of Gulf Coast 32.2
How easy it was, once, to imagine our future children. The blueprints were right in front of us, waiting to be brought to life. We envisioned them, tiny replicas of ourselves, as all couples surely …
She says, Maybe I am not, in fact, ill. The ends of all her sentences curve upward into questions. We reduce her medication with a warning: Bipolar I is a lifetime diagnosis, though we concede that …
The yellow powder blankets my car as thick as the snow that never falls here. For the first time in thirty years, I am allergic. Everyone smokes for comfort and so grows the communal cough.
I was twelve, with little idea of the drying sediment, the vanishing well, under my feet, though as far as I could tell West Texas was desert. A shrug in the middle of forgotten. At the time, I …