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"Benefactor" (2014)
by Dale Williams

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Degrees of Separation By Lynne Sharon Schwartz

Only recently with the candidacy of Fred Trump’s son Donald that has arrived like a plague of locusts — except that locusts are expected periodically and Donald was not — did I start to wonder who exactly this Fred Trump, our longtime landlord, was? What did Donald come from?

Posted in Essays | 1 Response

Truth Be Told By Tammy McKillip

Third Prize, 2015 Literal Latte Essay Award.
There is an old Yiddish proverb: A half-truth is a whole lie. My kids have never asked how my father died or how their dad’s father died (the same way, when my husband was 12). I have not told them and have no idea what I’ll say when the time comes, but it will probably be a lie….

Posted in Essays | Tagged , | 4 Responses

The Mysterious Crotch-Grabbing Handshake: Hard Lessons in Vietnam By Angela Smith Kirkman

Second Prize, 2015 Literal Latte Essay Award.
That’s it. I’m done with these useless Vietnam guidebooks. The very next smoldering cauldron of incense we pass, I’m chucking all of them in. Not one makes any mention of the disturbing crotch-grabbing ritual into which all three of my children have been indoctrinated….

Posted in Essays | Tagged , | 12 Responses

Requiem For All The Words That Didn’t Make It Into Tweets By Laura S. Distelheim

First Prize, 2015 Literal Latte Essay Award.
A gap year, he calls it because he’s learned to speak in tweets. So a gap year he says, at gatherings of his family and at reunions with his friends, and at the job interviews he’s been spending his days going on lately, where I envision bald and bespectacled men and staccato-speaking women sitting across their desks from him…

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Demeter in Kansas By Kate Duva

Second Prize, 2016 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
The key to her sultriness was her slowness, and the key to her slowness was her sadness — but when she was Lucinda la Miel, she forgot about all that. She gazed at the men in her audience as if…

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Home By Julia Salinger

First Prize, 2016 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
“Anna,” my lover says, “Why do you never talk about your family?” I am curled around her back. The delicate bones of her shoulder blades make indentations in my breasts. Her voice is clouded by sleep and blurring around the edges….

Posted in Fiction | Tagged , | 5 Responses

My Little Cuckoos By Christopher Allen

Third Prize, 2016 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
I told her. Dozens of times. The Big House, as we called it, was a mountain of clutter — too much for a widow with vertigo. A few years ago Dad ended in a heap at the bottom of the staircase. Mom, serving lunch at the mission, didn’t find his body for hours….

Posted in Fiction | Tagged , | 11 Responses

Sandcastles By Carol LaHines

Jesse was a beautiful boy. Fair-haired, eyes of indeterminate color – blue or green, it depended on the light. My favorite of my daughter Greta’s friends. I still remember the sandcastle we built, our last summer at the shore. A marvel of engineering, with a curtain wall…

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Through the Loupe By E.M. Schorb

Great quiet things reside in viewpoint, if we think oddly enough. The leaf of grass, of course, when a child — how it looks to the ant like a frond. Life lied by size, pen lied by ink, later, everything lied…

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Lot’s Wife Beckons By Brad Aaron Modlin

Stillness and breathing are simple in this pillow
of salt. Here choices don’t exist — a lullaby.
Isn’t this what you want too, a space as white…

Posted in Poetry | 3 Responses

The Neutron Bomb, Afterward By Brad Aaron Modlin

Just the rain clouds remember how to move
in this city of rotting bird nests and unfinished bottles…

Posted in Poetry | 1 Response

stormy weather By Aletha Irby

Winner, 2016 Literal Latte Food Verse Contest.
when greymalkin fisticuffs
and his sidekick
gherkin fiddlesticks
flanked by kinktail
the celtic-knot-tailed tomcat
minnie the moocher….

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