“How to Become a Dyke, Step Three, Birds,” by Nickole Brown
A book of birds. A story in birds. Each breath a bird, each dream slipped from your ear to your pillow out the window a song: cardinals laughing at you—birdie birdie birdie— on a lonely Valentines, then robins swarming the last bits of red another February day, so many of them on the holly tree the branches tick with their picking and you stop the car. But you are so cold, you have to get to the store, and in the florescent buzz of...
“Heart of a Locust,” by Nahal Suzanne Jamir
My son runs into the wind, and his shirt billows out behind him. He says he will sail away. I grab his arm, hard, and pull him away from the wind, from the street, from the cars in the street. “That hurt,” Jake says. “Too hard.” “I told you about running,” I say. “You can’t run. It’s dangerous. Only on the playground.” “There aren’t any cars. I looked.” “It’s always the car you don’t see.” He squirms and squiggles, using his body...
“Mouth,” by Malene Kai Bell
The girl sat at the table with a twisted mouth. The brussel sprouts, cold knobs on her plate; the baked chicken, cooled, from her refusal to open up. Her mother, having had enough of the girls ways, barked at her across the table; her mouth moving like a cow, her tone , a shrill blow horn. “Eat the food, Hen.” The girl earned the name after she’d dug up two juicy earthworms and shared them with the dog, Pluto. Her mother, when she...
“Constellations,” by Melita Schaum
1. A woman is asked to give a lecture on the essay as form. She strolls down to water. Sits on the shore, contemplating wrinkled surfaces, smooth depths. She thinks of design, pattern, rejects those easy figures. She wants to get at something deeper. Discontinuities. The ley lines of things that cannot exist without inference. She casts in her line; somewhere the subject waits to be caught. But it’s not the beadle who interrupts her...
Laura Brown-Lavoie Awarded Spring 2011 Orlando Fiction Prize
LAURA BROWN-LAVOIE is an urban farmer in Providence, RI, where she recently graduated from Brown University. Her work has been published in The Seneca Review, as well as in several on-campus publications. When she’s not working in the field, she’s often onstage performing spoken word poetry. Her winning short story, “A Strange Woman,” was published in Issue No. 10 of the Los Angeles Review.
Art is my taste for freedom. I drown day and day until I pick up my paintbrush once again. So, somehow, I can tell myself that you’re not stuck in this room and that the canvas is the key.
Nina Salvadoré
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Seabed or ocean floor? What is the difference?
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Immersion Aug 29, 2025
