“Sorry Sir, I’m Not the Man You’re Looking For” by Stella Meadows
The only word I understand is monsieur. A sling of unintelligible French blindsides me as I walk down the street; and though I have no …
Tag: nonfiction
“The Last Nights of Sisterhood” by E.B. Cotenord
On my sister’s 21st birthday, I visited her at the Cook County Jail. Looking back, I wish I hadn’t been so annoyed to see her …
“The Gift” by E.B. Cotenord
Trigger Warning: sexual themes and abuse In my career as a sex worker, I accept gifts with poise and grace. It’s an odd twist in …
“Alligators to Ashes” by Margaret S Mandell
Prologue to a Memoir Based on Love Letters to my Dead Husband By Margaret S. Mandell Sunday, December 10, 2017 My Dearest Love: October 2015. …
“What Lay Beneath” by Christine Yount Jones
In the sweltering summer of 1966, I have a kitten who will not cooperate under the Arizona sun that glares at me from its cloudless …
“Dog Joy” by Judy Guilliams-Tapia
I am sitting on my meditation cushion, cross-legged and with eyes closed, warmed by the afternoon sun shining through the glass patio door in front …
“Trenches, Rats, and Watercolors” by Geoff Watkinson
My internship duties in the Fine and Decorative Arts Department of the British National Army Museum included organizing and documenting collections of photographs and rearranging …
“Suburban Complaint #1988—Skunked” by Peter Dabbene
It was late at night, and the dog was barking—that is, until she suddenly voiced a squeal that made it sound like she’d been stabbed …
“The prison is like a Victorian asylum” by Robin Wyatt Dunn
The prison is like a Victorian asylum, and carefully arranged. The grounds are tastefully laid out, each tree with its own hillock of greeenery and …
“Running on Empty” by Melissent Zumwalt
June 1999 Bzz…Bzz…Bzz… My alarm sounds off, 2:00 a.m. A rude but expected awakening. Rolling onto my side, out of bed, I slump upright. From …
“A Season’s Breath” by Turi Ekirapa
I can’t sleep. Deep breath in. Boredom has hit me like a speck of bird poop that I can’t shake off. I’m doing that thing …
The Metaworker Podcast | 006 Meditations on Water by Stella Meadows
Episode Description: Editors Matthew, Elena, and Melissa talk to Stella Meadows about her brilliant nonfiction (as well as what makes brilliant nonfiction in general), identity, …
The Metaworker Podcast | 005 Kurt by Veronicca Lupinacci
Episode Description: Editors Matthew, Elena, and Melissa talk to Veronica Lupinacci about her wonderful poem, Kurt. We talk about nonfiction, how we remember people, and the …
“The God of Good Things” by Snata Bose
The rain cut me a river wide enough to savour my numbered gardens— each with their own cloud. And in each I bred a different …
“Hatching” by Lena Silver
I was born an old soul they say, a quiet spectator mulling over muddled thoughts, about what I don’t know, perhaps a previous lifetime. I …
“Tunnels, Caves, Helmets” by Edd Rose
I’ve probably been inside more than 500 tunnels, caves, souterrains, or underground passages in my entire life. My first home was a kind of cave, …
“Moments of Suffocating Dullness Interspersed with Violent and Near-suicidal Flashes of Excitement” by Edd Rose
The poet Charles Bukowski said “I don’t know about other people, but when I wake up in the morning and put my shoes on, I …
“Six Wheat Stories” by Emily Ruth Taylor
1 My grandfather lived next to two wheat farmers. I secretly wished my grandfather was a wheat farmer. I would bicycle along the edge of …
“An Abstract Vision of Paradise” by Scott Thomas Outlar
Into the infinite void where spaciousness calls out with a silent vibrating hum. Vibrant electricity gets shocked and magnetized by polar extremes to …
“On Writing” by Marina Shugrue
The reason I write is a simple one: I’ve always done it, and I can’t imagine living my life without writing. When I think about …
“The Woman Who Makes My Salad” By LilyAnne Rice
It occurred to me the other day that I don’t know your name even though you wear a name tag. I never even bothered to …
“Two Kisses” by Tadeu Bijos
I was five years old when I first kissed a girl. Her name was Juliana and it happened during my kindergarten recess, on the sand …
The Cycle of Writing by Nicole Mormann
The first time I tried to ride a two wheel bike, I remember my dad running alongside my six-year-old self as I swerved down the …