Like most stories, it’s not easy to know where to begin. Maybe in 1935, when a young Jewish high school teacher in the Bronx saw a photograph of a lynching. The image haunted him and he wrote a poem about it. That poem was published in a Teachers’ Union magazine. Then he set the poem …
What’s the story with the Abel Meeropol Social Justice Writing Award? Read More »
I. Seriously, the tree: Half orange/half green, like the reunification of Ireland. A dream on the misty-eyed lids of the hopeful. This is what I’d like to be – hopeful. A believer in rainbows, leprechauns and pots of gold. II. Today, the trees are gold – birches with smooth silver bark, young and unweathered. Trees …
A List of Marvelous Moments in Unmarvelous Times Read More »
by Steve Bernstein Jimmy, Son “My Daddy used to miss some games. He had to work. Even on my birthday. And Christmas. Can I tell you something else? Now, I pretend daddy is in the bleachers, sitting next to mommy and my nonna.” Rosa, Neighbor “They buy last house, end of street. Then twins come. …
By D. K. McCutcheon I read for 15 years without stopping At 16 I woke to discover I’d never been kissed, and set out to find one Through my terrible 20’s I wandered the world searching At 32, on the exact opposite side of the planet, I found my kiss He’d been reading, but looked …
WriteAngles Journal Writer’s Guidelines Thank you for submitting to WriteAngles Journal! We accept flash fiction and flash memoir (narrative slice of life) up to 500 words from writers who have registered for events sponsored by WriteAngles, Inc. Here are some things we look for in your piece. 1. Carefully polished and proofread work. 2. A …
By Anita Pappas-Raposa My mother wore Chanel No. 5 when she was a young woman. Sometimes, before I visit her at the nursing home, I dab a little on my neck from an old bottle that I use sparingly. I’m trying to make it last. The elegant perfume takes me back to evenings in the …
By Joan Axelrod-Contrada Fred’s ghost circles the room. A gust of cold air hits me in the face, and I drop a new coral-colored bra I’m packing for Date #10 with The New Guy. The shadowy apparition dips precariously close to my head. “Stop dive-bombing me!” I yell. “I need to get your attention.” “You …
By Mary Anne Slack I haven’t made a New Year’s resolution ever since I reread some old journals and realized that every year from the age of seventeen to thirty I wrote, “Get down to 120 pounds.” Undoubtedly I was once 120 pounds at some point, but I was most likely fourteen at the time. …
By Aisha-Sky Gates I was lying and it was best we kept it that way. After all, there were sixteen years of marriage to get through. I tried to begin Me in college in Missouri but it was the ‘70s. I had no right to expect care for sexual-assault-in-a-dorm-room. I couldn\’t say the words even …
By Mohammad Yadegari Almost every day, I passed by the horse-drawn carriages lined up for religious pilgrimages in Iraq. My father’s business was just a block away from where customers waited in line for rides. Occasionally, I accompanied our guests when they visited the area, and I loved the trip in the carriages. It was …
