Bouncers by Linda Melick
“Bouncers” by Linda Melick Mother made me and brother go out to the apple orchard to pick up all the bouncers. The farmer got the good fruit, but we could have the leavings. We dragged them home in a beggared wooden barrel that reeked of wine. She would sigh at them as she cut the bruises out with a small sharp knife. Then she peeled their skins off in one continuous piece. We snatched up these spirals,...
Downed Limb by Karen Skolfield
“Downed Limb” by Karen Skolfield The deer’s eating an oak limb as if it were a salad or something juicier, strawberries with crème freche. Evidence of early winter’s hunger. The leaves papery brown, exact color of the deer. It looks like it’s eating itself, working away at its shoulder, not even glancing up. When we consume ourselves, we think no one cares enough to watch. The girl in high school who carved...
Driving Home by Melissa Grossman
“Driving Home” by Melissa Grossman She haunts me, this young woman I drove home one evening. Wan with hollow cheeks and mussed blond hair that fell over her face, she kept me captive in my car, told stories about the room she rented in a big house where no one talked to her. She stared at a box of Girl Scout cookies on the floor by her feet, so I gave her one. Watched her from the corner of my eye, hold it to her...
Kitchens by Michel Wing
“Kitchens” by Michel Wing Bread cut in thick slabs, warmth pooling the butter. Swirled peaks of meringue, the lemon tart, sweet. Dinners of simple leftovers, always enough for one more. The kitchens of childhood friends opened wide for me. I entered hungry for mothering, left full-bellied, whole. ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Michel Wing’s Artist...
Fat Girl by Melissa Grossman
“Fat Girl” by Melissa Grossman I carry the weight of being a fat girl. I bear the indelible sledgehammer taunts: my brothers call me “tank” people say, “how beautiful” I’d be if I “just lost weight.” I wear the weight like battle armor, swallow my anger. I carry the raw egg of my future on a spoon. ____________________ Share your response to this work, in any form, here Melissa Grossman’s...
This month’s edition of WAVES is dedicated to our creative sisters whose spirits burn for their art while they are in the fight of their lives.
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How is artistic expansion the antidote to our worldly challenges?
Submit Your Art & Writing to WAVES
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We meet each other in waves of light, waves of vision, waves of sound–a studio beyond boundaries.
Creative sisters, shoulder to shoulder, shore to shore.
This time, there is no setting our art aside. This time, there is no setting our art asunder. This is our time.
December 6-7 | oneness | noon to noon EST | dip in and out throughout this twenty-four hour wave
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the antidote Oct 31, 2025
