The medium is the visible section of frothy milk resting atop the overflow, the mode is the barista’s deliberate wrist twisting…..
Right Now I am Drinking a Cortado by Nicholas Hug
Category: Essays
An archive of all of the personal essays we’ve published at Hippocampus Magazine over the years.
Ford Motor Company Tells Me About Perseverance by Alexis Annunziata
They remind me: For over a hundred years we have been building for this country.
The Crush by Zsofia McMullin
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.
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.
