Novel Excerpt by Sanderia Faye
We were going to meet every Sunday after church service, Christians and sinners alike till we got the job done.
We were going to meet every Sunday after church service, Christians and sinners alike till we got the job done.
Our lives need to go beyond looking. Life with nature needs to be meaningful.
An array of women’s voices challenge what counts as environmental literature.
The Internet has burrowed inside my head and laid eggs, and it feels like they’re all hatching.
I face the same old hyena in my mind: you’re weak, empty, delusional, small in heart.
What we interpret as entropy is only our preference for one state of matter over another.
On our stoop, luck clears its throat like a Mormon missionary and walks away.
The novella-in-flash, divided into tiny bits of action, mirrors life this way.
'You will not make it to heaven on jokes alone,' the Bishop said.
There are no signposts here; I can no longer remember the names of my children.