March, 2010

Strange Currents

It’s April, and the last hints of winter are just now lifting from Rochester. Dirty piles of snow still linger in the zoo parking lot, where it’s collected from daily plowings.

by Jon Chopan | Read story

Place Value

After Katrina drowned their house on the Gulf, Teddy’s grandparents came north and moved in with Teddy and his mother in Chicago. They only had the four suitcases, and his grandmother tried to sound playful when she announced they were in a homeless state.

by Margaret McMullan | Read story

The History of Adolescence As Told Through Made-For-Television

You will have a fear of clowns for the rest of your life. Not just clowns but clown-like things⎯rainbow colored wigs, foam rubber balls, any and all face paint.

by LaTanya McQueen | Read story

Accidental Falls

While returning home with a borrowed bottle of wine, my mother tripped over the pavement, scraping the skin from her palms. The bottle shattered. My mother, a hysteric by nature, screamed and cried and drew a crowd—my father chief among them, who discovered that a shard of the green bottle glass had imbedded itself in the center of my mother’s forehead.

by Christina Murphy | Read story