Category: The Last Word
Writers getting the last word. HFR is invested in elevating art by marginalized groups with this feature.
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“#MeToo All Over Again”: Gay Degani Interviews Jacqueline Doyle, Author of The Missing Girl
Every story in this short collection, The Missing Girl (Black Lawrence Press, 2017), is strong, evocative, and terrifying. Jacqueline Doyle gives us a prism: eight stories with eight different approaches on the continuing issue of misappropriate, dangerous, and often deadly behavior toward women. Jacqueline Doyle’s flash collection The Missing Girl won the Black River Chapbook Competition at Black…
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Two Poems by Julia Cohen
Passover Lullaby for Elijah, April 19 2019 / Elegy for Chabad of Poway SynagogueApril 27 2019 A sinkhole of humansA marquee of humansA nomad of humansA lake of humansA smuggle of humansA kibbutz of humansA pollen of humansA grenade of humansA hammock of humansA Shirley Temple of humansA bloviation of humansAn occupation of humansA foliage…
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“Puzzle-Piece Blues,” original short fiction by Selene dePackh
*Ed.’s Note: click image to view larger size. [harsh black and white comix-style cyberpunk image of feminine face repeating within itself from multiple angles] Puzzle-Piece Blues Case Study [delete]* Bear in mind that I’m a suspect witness. Everything I say is subject to erasure. I make for deaf ears, pressure-popping like plastique in an airline…
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“Puritan Remnants,” an excerpt from Time’s Up! A Memoir of the American Century by Robert Cabot
Blending history, essay, travelogue, and autobiography, Time’s Up! is a personal and political saga: luminous, probing, and absorbing. At constant odds with his Boston Brahmin lineage and upbringing, Robert Cabot confronts white privilege, rejects the conventional trappings of wealth and fame, and critiques our American heritage of colonialism, imperialist yearnings, and penchant for perpetual war. In alternating…
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“An Ending for Her,” flash fiction by Matthew Meriwether
What if I walked up to your front door again. What if, at the sight of me on the front porch, the same front porch with so many stale memories, instead of laughing at my patheticness, you smiled with surprising relief. What if you had gained a little weight, the weight symbolic of your settling…
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“What He Said,” flash fiction by Matthew Meriwether
I ask her what he said. He her boyfriend. He her boyfriend, the bartender, the man who watches. He told her I was rude. He told her I made fun of him and the other bartenders. He told her I was with “that girl you hate.” That girl our old friend. Our old friend with…
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Flash Fiction: “The Fire” by Matthew Meriwether
She sees a fire in the huge dark field to the left of the road we’re driving down. Do you see that fire? she says. I look ahead of me, I look up—all the wrong directions. I see the moon, that white fire, which is bright and full, unblinking. Why were we talking about fire?…
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Essay: “If you really wanted to hear the news, you would take a walk through the city” by Tameca L Coleman
If you really wanted to hear the news, you would take a walk through the city I’ve taken a pause on my walk, distracted with all the things I’m carrying: my messenger bag, which keeps slipping off of my right shoulder, two bags of things from Target I didn’t really mean to buy, and a…

