Trip-trapping by Sara Hills
The autumn I turn ten, we leave my dad and the crusted expanse of Arizona desert, hard-packed sand dotted with dried grass and shriveled cacti, for the suburbs of Chicago.
Pigs Die by Constance Malloy
I envied the pigs their voice. They weren’t silenced. Well, not before the electrocution or before the Hog Sticker with his 18-inch blade sliced the swine’s throats as they hung upside down.
En Aeropuertos by Pat Foran
I’m in a line, a line of lines, waiting to check in for my flight to Monterrey. The line isn’t moving.
Homecoming by Lucy Zhang
When the girl and her grandfather climb the seven flights of stairs to reach the rooftop, they hear the pigeons coo at their footsteps in anticipation.
Fyodor by Daniel Roy Connelly
Fyodor won a frying pan. Nothing had ever come to him for free but out-of-the-blue he received a letter informing him that he had won a frying pan in a supermarket lottery and would he be available to attend a ceremony with the mayor on such and such a date.