Grace

Edna McNamara

We met in a shadowed hallway, both of us discarded on a wooden bench outside of Doctor Langdon’s office, white knuckles clasped on our laps, skirts bunched about our cold feet. As the doctor had asked to speak first with my parents, I’d taken the seat next to a woman who immediately turned to me. […]

An Hourglass Full of Snowflakes

A.E. Milford

It’s rare for a man to have true peace of mind. Or maybe that’s too negative. Maybe a man has peace of mind the majority of his life, but only notices it once it’s gone, when turmoil is magnified, during times of stress when one looks back enviously on calmer waters. These were the thoughts […]

Making the Most of Your Speed Date

Fabi

by Donna Brennan You will have a rare and fun opportunity at Push to Publish: Ten minutes of face time with an agent or editor. We call this a “speed date,” and you will sign up for your date at registration on a first come, first serve basis. In a speed date, the writer spends […]

Are you ready to pursue your MFA

Aimee LaBrie

Answer the following questions as honestly as you can. If you say no at any point, stop. You are not suited to pursue your MFA. If you say yes, continue on to the next question.   Do you want to be surrounded by other writers of varying temperament, talents, and levels of dedication? Think carefully […]

Tell Me I Can’t Say That

David P. Kozinski

My advanced placement was bourbon poured in a cough syrup bottle I kept in my locker – amber in amber.   He said it first – spooktacular. How spooky life became as big men were shot down. Conjugate a six ounce verb.   Conjugate this: our troubles come in tribes.   I expected it but […]

Regrets

Wes Ward

When we didn’t move to Philadelphia, we didn’t buy the hanging flower basket for the front stoop in Old City. We didn’t ride bicycles to the market and fill your basket with Roma tomatoes and eggplant. You don’t like eggplant. And you thought Philadelphia would lose its lure if we had a mailbox, a sconce […]

Light Rings

Bernadette McBride

I point 6-year-old Joey’s attention to the lime-green baby caterpillar curling itself along the sidewalk in front of our homes, and before I take a second breath, he lifts his miniature Nike and stamps the poor thing to goo,   spreads it from the bottom of his shoe to the curb, scraping and scraping it […]

I See You

Claire Scott

Time folds back and back on itself like my uncle’s accordion           in our airless attic pleated patterns create shortcuts to the future           I tumble through trap doors & silent tunnels at the speed of light, arriving           breathless in a world where our […]