Tag: HFR Archives

An Essay by Isabelle Davis: “Lay Off the High Ones”

They failed to come back to Earth1, gravity, conventional use of time. B says, That would be the best way to die. To become fire, immediately after seeing outside of a world everybody else you know will never see outside of, would be so simple. Everything would be colors. Eighteen people have died in…
Six Poems by Peter Longofono

Seismic Enthusiast You can tell humans by their flocking. They call them clearings when they get there. You can tell it timberline. Become optional, an erosive classic intercedes. Nothing now qualifies your hermetic stare-down. You, plucking grissom out the ruly. They, triangulating your knock forest, sparse Switz, traipsing up to populate your zero. Wresting cheesewheels…
Three Hybrid Pieces: Marlin M. Jenkins

At Camp This Summer Hussein runs down the rocky hill behind the tennis court in flip flops (though he is not wearing socks with his flip flops as Mahmoud, his cousin, is—white ones with red lint clinging to the toes). Mahmoud: “Wallah I swear to God, Hussein, if you hit it out of bounds one…
Poetry Collaboration: “Archeology as Prayer” by Amy Ash & Callista Buchen

Let us breathe the dust that was once bone, how we taste the sweat, the steps. Wekneel before the altar of night, stars carved into pattern. It is one of those things, we say. You hear us sift through shadow and dust. We try to tell you what we need, what we want:artifact and ruin,…
AWW Best-in-Show Fellowship: Ashely Adams’ short story “What the Water Told Us”

In 2017, Antioch Writers’ Workshop entered into a partnership with the University of Dayton, and is formally known as The Antioch Writers’ Workshop at the University of Dayton. The University of Dayton provides in-kind space—a physical office, mailing address, and space for the Spring one-day seminar and Summer week-long event. Other benefits include availability of…
Mary Flanagan: Five Poems

Enough You know what I want to have with you? A You Can Do No Wrong Love It might not be the same as We’ve Weathered Many StormsLove Or I’m Sick Can You Share My PainLove Or Why Did You Cheat On MeLove OrWe Lost The BabyLove Rather can we tune our radios To another…
Two Poems: Lauren Loftis

Old Issaquah mine entrance, once sealed, is slowly reopening1 Machine sludge and methane gas soaking into rock, cannot be what they mean when they say history is beneath us. The base of my hometown: timber, white rot splinter, a rain-swelled sponge in collapse. They say if you fall in there’s not an emergency crew in…
Original Short Story: “Twenty-two Voicemails” by Chris Ames

— M. it’s Noreen. I’ve been very busy lately learning how to take a joke. It’s come to my attention that I have been taking them incorrectly this whole time. How embarrassing thinking back (knowing what I know now) on the hundreds and hundreds of jokes I must have mishandled. Those hysterical parties, those elevator…
Flash Fiction: “The Final Trumpet” by Hillary Leftwich

When I think I am far enough away I find a rock and sit. The hill is across from another hill which is across from a mountain. Let me tell you, there are mountains everywhere here. Let me tell you something else, there are just as many churches as there are mountains. From where I…