by Julie Aitcheson

Mid-step, my boyfriend startled, teetering for a moment as if at a cliff’s edge. We’d stumbled right up to the border of a patch of charred ground roughly the size an adult would leave if he’d fallen into a snowdrift and made an angel.

by Blair Hurley

We didn’t hear much about the virus for the two days I spent in the hospital, fragile and bleeding, my husband curled on the couch, her in a plexiglass bassinet beside us, fascinating and beautiful.

by Ebony Macfarlane

The main fire looked like a steam engine hurtling through the bush, smoke surrounding it and trailing behind. This steam engine was destroying with flames.

by Ashlee Petrucci

As my next class filters into the room, the routine is all-too-familiar: the first student kindly splatters sanitizer on all the desks, while the others sanitize their hands, grab paper towels, then clean their workspace.

by Nathan Holic

One afternoon, I find myself melting. Not much at first. A few drops from my hands, and easy enough to ignore.