April 2016

Inheritance by J.L. Cooper

box of screws and washers and odds and ends

By the time I was eight, I’d come to know of a cigar box my father kept in our garage, filled to the top with various nuts and bolts, washers, grommets, and screws.

Auteur by Lynne Nugent

baby in grass with shadow

I point my cameraphone at the boy who is chasing a pair of robins across the park with his newly minted stagger-walk. The robins, unconcerned, barely rouse themselves to fly a few yards away…

Without You by Milena Nigam

looking up at attic window of old house

In 1982, my parents divorce, and my mom, sister, and I move to a small house in West Concord, at the time a working class town twenty miles west of Boston. I am eight years old.