We listen to my father’s footsteps creak lightly across the floorboards overhead with the forced casualness of parents with young children.
Sir Walter Raleigh by Lee Guthrie
Category: Essays
An archive of all of the personal essays we’ve published at Hippocampus Magazine over the years.
Consequences by Michael Nixon
My four friends and I, all of us Marines, were looking for a secluded spot to get drunk, trudging up a path along a cliff that overlooked the Pacific Ocean
Who By Fire by Evelyn Krieger
This story begins with a lit match. Maybe it ends there, too.
Water and Light by Hannah van Didden
I smooth her feathers from neck to wing and wonder if there is a definitive way to tell that a chicken is dead.
Vee Dubya by Christy Lynch
My dad drank. That’s the nice way of putting it, I guess—“He drank,” as if it might mean just the once.
Swimming With Headscarf Ladies by Kirsten Voris
Too sick to leave home, I flop in my sheets like something beached and dying. After weeks of illness, I pine for fresh air. An apartment with a bathtub.
Women Without Names by B. Richard Wright
As we spoke, drank, and watched the busy street with its mix of sailors, marines, and locals milling about, a black van stopped in front of us…
The Improbability of Me (and You) by David R. Bowne
This is about math, plain and simple, and biology, not at all plain and not at all simple.
Helix by Anne Gudger
Bare feet in the cool of sand. We stood almost pinky toe to pinky toe, pale pink polish (hers) to cobalt blue (mine).
Taunting the Abyss by Y.L. Fein
Cancer drove me. Seven years after the event I still couldn’t say the word. Neither could my friends, at least not to my face.
