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Memphis, Tennessee

I’ve always been real proud of my feet. They’re sitting up there on the dashboard of this old Firebird as we drive through the desert. Lou’s flooring the gas, but…

Fiction | August 2004 | By Kerry Langan


Time

My two-year-old daughter looks at me with rain in her face: “Mama, I want to go with you.” I stand, hand on door, my body vibrating with the urgency of…

Mothering in the Ivory Tower | August 2004 | By Amy Hudock


Say My Name

Tashonda A. In the eyes of the law, this is my daughter Peyton’s name until our adoption finalization hearing this month. I imagine Angela*, her birth mother, whispering “Tashonda” in…

The Girl is Mine | August 2004 | By Deesha Philyaw


Childbirth Choices

By the time this column is published, our family size will have increased by one. Since, as I write, the big event is drawing nearer every day, I find myself…

Mothering Abroad | August 2004 | By Kate MacVean


Stay With Me

“Are you aware that your shoes don’t match?” Nora’s boss, Howard, greets her with an amused regard after she enters his office. She laughs along with him, even though he…

Fiction | July 2004 | By Terez Rose


Bloodlines

Dr. Paula suggested devising a family ritual as a way to create more intimacy in their relationship. An “emotional bridge” she had called it. A “family building block.” Lane had…

Fiction | July 2004 | By KD Cunningham


Eleven

My friend is in the living room, crying. The more she cries, the worse I feel about almost not letting her in. If the baby wasn’t crying, screaming, really, I…

Fiction | July 2004 | By Kathleen Furin


Sanctuary

Balding, with a holistic practice. He pulls his trousers over his mild paunch, my dentist. In the bathroom of the 19th century building he has meticulously rehabbed is a calligraphed…

Poetry | July 2004 | By Peggy Hong


Family Bed

He’s made his way into our bed again, one small elbow dangerously close to my eye. And though I barely fit the sliver of middle you two back sleepers leave…

Poetry | July 2004 | By Ona Gritz


Three Sons and a Cow

may I trade a cow’s skull cracked, stained half the jaw gone for your dirty T-shirt? it reminds me of oil-rags and sons, bums up over the engine of an…

Poetry | July 2004 | By Joanna Weston


Moods (14 years old)

They say I have moods, that I am moody. Well, actually, I have only three moods — neutral, upset, and very upset. It’s they that have the moods, if that’s…

Poetry | July 2004 | By Sara Epstein


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