Wings by Callie Reitfors

a swarm of monarch butterflies

I am 16, holding my breath as I wait for the needle to resume etching the delicate wings of the swallowtail into the tender skin of my right hip.

Alone in Reno by Dot Hearn

wedding chapels in reno, 70s

I hope he won’t turn the car around. I hope I’m not making a mistake. I hope I don’t do anything to make him mad. I am eighteen. I will soon be married in Reno.

Burger by Jesse Waters

shined black shoes

I am ten months from being thirteen, and have yet to hit puberty in mid-80’s America…. There’s a smallish blue-black bruise just below my right eye.