Summer has arrived. Sweat gathers in my creases; long, hazy days bleed into hot nights. At the wine bar, with my best friend, we sip glasses of cold white wine and dip shreds of buttered bread into olive oil.
Tag Archives: Prose
Rebecca Jacobson
I press the towel harder against my face and my shoulders fall. It’s the first moment since I arrived at the competition where I feel unseen, my hands still.
Monique Nair
Let’s start with the waters of another lifetime.
Macey Smart
Do you remember the night we met?
Shafi Huq
The last two weeks have been overwhelming. And it’s only going to get worse.
swim meet lit mag 