I take the Turnpike heading south this morning instead of my usual route… I am not entirely lost but not entirely sure of where I am going either.
The Crush by Zsofia McMullin
Category: Essays
An archive of all of the personal essays we’ve published at Hippocampus Magazine over the years.
Me Llamo Theresa by Theresa Okokon
On the inside of my right ankle sits the lowercase letter “t.” It’s not often visible, but every once in a while it will provoke a comment.
Sometimes We Forget by Nicola Sebastian
He kneads my belly like he does every night. He thinks you’re his mama, you tell me, your face a pixelated screen from sixteen hours away.
The Head on the Commuter Line by Max King Cap
I grew up on trains. I attended college by train. I went to work by train. There was a station less than two blocks from my firehouse…
Food Is Home. Home is Food. by Smitha Murthy
I spoon some batter for the ambode into my hands. Mom slaps my wrist, but I can’t resist as I watch her press the batter between her hands…
Tan Lines by Michael Todd
Skin has always come first, a sheath concealing that which is honest, sometimes dangerous.
I Thought I Knew Them by Nancy Barnes
I am opening the last boxes of my parents’ personal papers, boxes I’ve carted with me on many moves.
He Looked Small by Mallory Olivia Taylor
He looked small in his hospital bed. No smaller than usual, but still, the nurses must have considered him a small man.
The Capacity of a Human by Linda Anne Silver
…the need comes after our fifty-year-old daughter dies on a midsummer’s morning and we are numb: wanting to flee the sadness, not knowing how to move forward.
The Kill Switch by Michelle Willms
It surprised me to see Michael standing beside me one day, his unfinished project in hand.
