Visible through the window: light sun, little squirrels scurrying down cement steps, empty-handed.
A Day of Caregiving by Michael Anthony Ventura
Category: Essays
An archive of all of the personal essays we’ve published at Hippocampus Magazine over the years.
Inside Was The Present Where Young Boys Die by Kathryn Smith
Fifty of us walked, fingertip to gloved fingertip, through the sodden snow….
Death and Barbers by William F. Schulz
Paul Milligan was buried at the very hour he was supposed to be cutting my hair.
FL-110 by Ross Flournoy
The room is stuffy — almost suffocating. It’s a few degrees too warm and there’s nary a window in sight….
House Music by Betsy Boyd
“Ay, Edward will use women…honorably!” proclaims my 88-year-old dad…
To the Little Girl Crying in the Snow at the Corner of Cascade and West 24th Street by Clayton Bradshaw-Mittal
My dog is pulling too hard on his leash, and I’m half-walking, half-slipping….
Thrilled to Announce by C.E. McKenna
There she is: white girl drunk on the dance floor of the Reed student union….
The Prison of Misunderstanding by Candace Lamb
We were almost late this morning because I begged Mama to stop at Grandma’s house and get my pageant dress.
Love and Milk Duds by Kerry Leddy Malawista
Previously, I could find humor almost anywhere, but after Sarah died, laughter came to a halt.
Commentary from an Eldest Daughter Regarding TSA Approved/Prohibited Items When Traveling by Airplane with a Grieving Father by Sharon Colby
Writers of the TSA website list “What Can I Bring?” slip in humor from time to time….
