Prose
Prose
How to Deprogram a Parent in 7 Easy Steps
Do you have an elderly parent who has fallen victim to internet conspiracy theories?
I wanted to wash my face and my feet. I wanted to be invited somewhere.
I was being led by something. So tender and raw inside of my body that I can’t point to a specific place — there was me before I had ever seen a dam.
Smoke Screens
The week the pandemic hits, I break my lease in Little Haiti and drive fifteen hours up the I-95 to be with my parents.
Those People
In 1996, the year my mother died of a heroin overdose, Purdue Pharma started to sell OxyContin in the United States.
An Essay on Processing
TSW Art Director, Meg Sykes, on creating the featured image for Issue 13: Rebellious Joy
Rest Begets Rest: An Essay
TSW Artist in Residence, Bianca Ng, writes a meditative inquiry into rest
If I Had Known Then That Casey and Rhian Were Both Terrible Pieces of Shit, Puberty Would Have Been Way More Fun
We’re all on the grassy patch of land east of Christ the King, our school, with our uniform plaid skirts hiked, wearing way too much lip-gloss and not enough deodorant.
Family House
When Mom called to tell me the news that Memito had died, I went to go fish out that old photo from what could barely be called a closet.
Little House in the Big Pandemic
At night, when Laura lay awake on her memory foam mattress, she listened and could not hear anything at all.
Caring
Despite my history of garden neglect, each year I delight in the sensation of newly turned soil.
