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March 10, 2015 | Nonfiction

Forgetting New Year's Eve

Fruzsina Eördögh

We were in Hungary to see his grave, which I did not spit on, and I’m proud of myself for that.   

Forgetting New Year's Eve photo
The Infidel Approaches Grace photo

March 6, 2015 | Nonfiction

The Infidel Approaches Grace

Sara Rauch

The night we part, not knowing when we will see each other next, we go out walking beneath a swollen, but waning, moon.

Two Poems photo

March 5, 2015 | Poetry

Two Poems

Jill McDonough

We are going to die still falling // for crap about berries, a glass of red wine. It could be worse.  We’re not suicidal, / smack fiends, Swazi.

Two Poems photo

March 4, 2015 | Poetry

Two Poems

Christopher Citro & Dustin Nightingale

At night, when everyone's gone, the dark looks like a scatter of tiny bullet holes above her desk in the shape of a heart.