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In the motel’s retro, kidney-shaped, outdoor pool, thirty minutes till close, no lifeguard on duty, Harry Snow swims his first submerged lap, his long-lost special ability.
By Steve PettOctober 2022My husband had been sick long enough, a string of years, that I’d begun to think of his diagnosis as a rumor. He was interminably terminally ill. Until he wasn’t.
By Debra GwartneyJuly 2022After that incident I sorted people into two categories: those who could sing and those who couldn’t. I was now relegated to the land of Couldn’t, an exile from the country of music.
By Alison LutermanApril 2022It was too quiet: no bellowing of elk, no call of owls. As I opened the front door, I could smell the beef stew I’d left simmering on the stove, but there was no music, and our dog Neva did not greet me.
By Teetle ClawsonMarch 2022I have bipolar II disorder, which is characterized by rock-bottom lows interspersed with occasional bouts of manic hyperactivity. After some tweaking of my antidepressant cocktail, this maelstrom, too, will pass. I just have to lash myself to the mast and wait.
By Kathleen FoundsFebruary 2022Going natural, looking professional, shaving it all off
By Our ReadersFebruary 2022I wondered if I had stumbled upon some universal principle: the more beautiful the illusion, the more egregious the lie.
By Sam RuddickFebruary 2022Collecting bottles, tossing leftovers, taking out the garbage
By Our ReadersJanuary 2022A middle-aged New England lawyer, you were dressed like a cowboy. This, as much as anything else, underscored that it was over between us. A suede-fringe jacket. Snakeskin boots with stacked heels. An oversized Stetson. What, I said, no spurs?
By Judith Claire MitchellDecember 2021Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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