Prose Archives - Page 5 of 12

I wanted to wash my face and my feet. I wanted to be invited somewhere.

hannah rubin Fiction, Prose

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.

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Smoke Screens

Bobuq Sayed Nonfiction, Prose

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.

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Those People

Kristin Marie Nonfiction, Prose

In 1996, the year my mother died of a heroin overdose, Purdue Pharma started to sell OxyContin in the United States.

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An Essay on Processing

Meg Sykes Art, Prose

TSW Art Director, Meg Sykes, on creating the featured image for Issue 13: Rebellious Joy

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Rest Begets Rest: An Essay

Bianca Ng Art, Prose

TSW Artist in Residence, Bianca Ng, writes a meditative inquiry into rest

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If I Had Known Then That Casey and Rhian Were Both Terrible Pieces of Shit, Puberty Would Have Been Way More Fun

sheena d. Nonfiction, Prose

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.

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Family House

Alysia Gonzales Fiction, Prose

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.

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Little House in the Big Pandemic

Grace Hwang Lynch Nonfiction, Prose

At night, when Laura lay awake on her memory foam mattress, she listened and could not hear anything at all.

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Caring

Sara Yinling Post Nonfiction, Prose

Despite my history of garden neglect, each year I delight in the sensation of newly turned soil.

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An Origin Story

Rogelio Juárez Nonfiction, Prose

I could talk your ear off about the current state of Mexican-American literature.

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Ingress

C.A. Schaefer Nonfiction, Prose

Dust remembers what we try to forget, preserves the hidden, and keeps evidence in wait.

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To My Father, on the One-Year Anniversary of His Death

Zoe Fenson Nonfiction, Prose

I am standing at the ironing board, running a hot iron over a folded and stitched-together strip of quilting cotton to make bias tape.

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Rupture

Marianne Manzler Nonfiction, Prose

The first time I watched you kill a fish, you were methodical and emotionless, striking it in one blow.

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Beyond the Distance

Vanmayi Shetty Art, Nonfiction, Prose

What makes a country great? Surely the answer doesn’t lie in vast tracts of forest land that have been converted into concrete megastructures

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I Keep Counting Up

Lauren Krauze Nonfiction, Prose

Four weeks. Four weeks and still the virus. Things that were once normal now seem absurd.

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I wanted to wash my face and my feet. I wanted to be invited somewhere.

Smoke Screens

Those People

An Essay on Processing

Rest Begets Rest: An Essay

If I Had Known Then That Casey and Rhian Were Both Terrible Pieces of Shit, Puberty Would Have Been Way More Fun

Family House

Little House in the Big Pandemic

Caring

An Origin Story

Ingress

To My Father, on the One-Year Anniversary of His Death

Rupture

Beyond the Distance

I Keep Counting Up

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