We’d been visiting our son in Arkansas and were now on Highway 69 near Atoka, Oklahoma, heading south. That’s when I noticed the inconspicuous sign.
The Lost Art by Scott Loring Sanders
Category: Essays
An archive of all of the personal essays we’ve published at Hippocampus Magazine over the years.
Bus Ride with Violins by David Daniel
I decided to take a city bus, something I rarely did…. most of the places I needed to go to I could walk, and besides, I had a car.
Hot has a Smell in the Desert by Jaclyn Maria Fowler
I run a school in the desert. The United Arab Emirates hired me, an English-speaking, pseudo-Catholic from a foreign country, and put me in charge of their children.
Ball Don’t Lie by Geoff Director
The first time Richie and I showed up to play at the Central Park basketball courts by 85th street, we heard a collective groan from the regulars.
Unspeakable by Joyce H. Munro
In those days, he was always grousing about something. Misplaced glasses, cold coffee, empty sugar bowl. Then after a ten-second spiel, his annoyance would trail off like smoke
The Heart’s Chambers by Patricia M. Dwyer
“In a healthy heart…” My cardiologist’s words linger in my mind. I listen carefully as she sketches an image of a heart on the back of her notepad. It looks something like a big beetle from where I lay on the hospital bed…
Things Seen in the Dark: A Triptych by Mary Heather Noble
I thought I heard howling the other night. It startled me from a dream, and I raised my head from the indentation in my pillow to listen again —
Maybe We Can Make a Circle by Nicole Piasecki
I’ve started to write this letter at least 20 times in as many years. Just imagine me sitting alone in my office surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper.
Bad Mother by Kaylie Jones
During the fall of my daughter’s sophomore year at the most difficult and impossibly demanding public high school in New York City, Sandra, our cleaning lady, came rushing into my room wearing a pained look…
The State of Elvis in 2016 by Jim Breslin
In this sweltering summer of discontent, the Elvis impersonator is wedged into a rhinestone-encrusted royal-blue jumpsuit. Our pores sweat like Corona bottles under the blistering sun.
