It’s a bit like throwing a party. We send out invitations to strangers, and this is where it all begins. It’s BYOB, your RSVP will be analyzed for errata. Some ask, Will there be party favors? No, not yet. Even so, they come in droves; they pack the stoop and we turn people away with, Sorry; maybe next time? We slip a crowd in through the back; the house fills up and the room brims with stories, it’s righteous loud and hot when the clock strikes twelve: Gong! A whoop goes up and someone throws open the window and yells, Yeah! This is Issue Three!
More from The Journal
- Postcard Prose
Never Without Her Umbrella
By Kory Wells
The local tour guide believes in leather boots with wide toes. Sturdy soles. Protein for breakfast.
- Postcard Prose
Red Skies
By Kimberly Ramos
The young sailor said he would give me a modicum of love if I let him use my body as a harbor.
- Postcard Prose
Reception
By Kory Wells
The ticket seller would prefer to meet the guests outside, order them shortest to tallest, take the most boisterous by the hand.
- Poetry
Two Poems by Nick Conrad
The skull-like villa lost in a garden of dreams, so seem the isle’s cimitero:
- Poetry
Three Poems by Dinah Ryan
I have fallen in love with winter, / with the day that ends at 3:45 in the afternoon. // with the man striding along the path grasping / a pink plastic bag that glows incandescent / although it only contains dish soap / and the cat food he carries home after work …
- Poetry
Two Poems by Daisy Bassen
...you wonder again about the soul, / Where it hides, where it ventures. / There's always one you have to bring to oblivion...
Read more Poetry or Postcard Prose
