Let the Bodies Hit the Floor: A Cycle Alexa Doran __________ If you attended the funeral for my Trapper Keeper’s iron-on patch, Frank the Frog, in my fifth grade homebase, or watched me lug a dog dish over to my golden retriever Lisa Frank folder, you are likely unconvinced by…
Read MoreThe Hologram of the Cat Meg Pokrass __________ Today, Muffin barks at the front door for an hour. She nips at our ankles, though not in a painful way. Not in a way that means, ANIMAL ALERT. What is it, girl? we say. Maybe it’s the hologram of the cat,…
Read MoreAll Music: Espressivo March ’24 Editor: Vallie Lynn Watson Managing Editor: Abbie Skinner Guest Editor: Karris Rae Assistant Editors: Aiman Tariq, Taryn White, Meilyn Woods Editorial Assistants: Mia Bonds, Alexandria Knight Shawnda McCollum, Rhythm Section, inspired by “Sound of Silence” by Disturbed Letter from the Editor by Vallie Lynn Watson…
Read MoreCemetery One Nighter Paul Corman-Roberts __________ It isn’t the name she told you, the name that isn’t her real name but the name they told your friend, heartbroken back in the pizza joint you hit up where you first squeezed her thigh under the table out of your friend’s sight, neither of you knowing she was death, happy to clasp your fingers…
Read MoreThe Music’s Gonna Get You Margo Williams __________ Caitlin saw him from across the tavern. He was at least ten years older than she, maybe more. His dark hair grew in waves to his shoulders; his five o’clock shadow was sexy. He strummed his guitar with such purpose. Long pale…
Read MoreLittle by Little Susan Tepper __________ A drum roll woke me at 3am. When I saw that time lit in red on my alarm clock I almost had a hemorrhage. The racket was coming from the downstairs apartment. I got up and kicked the floor a few times. No change. …
Read MoreIn the Style Of… James Brubaker __________ Here is Ohio. And here is Dayton, and here is a suburb, a strip mall, a bar—a karaoke bar. I am neither a patron, nor an employee. I am something else entirely, sick with anticipation, throbbing from the bar’s early evening quiet. I…
Read MoreTicket to Ride Angela Ball __________ Why did I not ask my father to stop at the drive-in to get my sister the foot-long hot dog she had asked for? Because when we neared it, “Ticket to Ride” was playing on the radio, and I couldn’t speak. Why not? The…
Read MoreLetter from the Guest Editor Karris Rae __________ I started on my first instrument when I was seven—my mom’s old snare drum, already dimpled from years of use. I didn’t stick with it long (how long could I spend on a single note?), but I’d have more luck with the…
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