Why I Am Resourceful by Arminé Iknadossian

shouts of hungry men, lust in their curses.

March 1, 2022

Reading Time: 1 Minutes

Aintab, Turkey: 1915

Crouched behind a wagon,

my great-grandmother, only 12,

can smell benzine, burning hair —

shouts of hungry men, lust in their curses.

Yeranouhi, which means wish,

smears charcoal on her pretty face

like a dutiful daughter, watches

as her mother hides her young brother,

rolling him gently into a small carpet.

A Parisian Affair by Kevin Wranovix
Inspiration is a foggy fellow, emerging from nothing, dissipating into nothing, answering to nothing.
Our Theseus by Nathan Jefferson
Last week he was a dishwasher who his coworkers called Ricky. Today he’s a day laborer named Eddie, clearing a pair of fallen trees off a new build’s lawn and fixing up a large garden. Rotting plank ripped out, new plank inserted.
Robbing the Pillars by Marie Goyette
Ruth stood on the narrow iron bridge, gripping her father’s obsidian necklace, and wondered how many years it would take before the river wore them both down to nothing.
The Call by Eben E. B. Bein
I hungered into that quiet until— there—unbelievable!— a wolf spider scuttled onto a leaf.
Saturation by Claire Oleson
I no longer harangue every desk nurse at every hospital for a taxonomic breakdown of her bills. I don’t ask for the numbers of the Benadryl, the water cups, the abdominal touches done with gloved hands. I am the most American I’ve ever been—she costs what she costs and I eat it.