Vol. 2, Issue 21

“The underground stations have their own smell of creosote and steel dust and humidity and maybe that metallic smell that goes with electrostatic discharge. Sometimes added to that are people-smells like vomit or urine or even, on hot days, a waft of open latrine.” -Albert Norton, Jr., “Stink”

Stink | Fiction

Stink | Fiction

Atlanta Writers Club Presents… The Terry Kay Prize for Fiction Winner: Albert Norton, Jr.   Stink   The smell started with me. I noticed it first on the subway, though it wasn’t so unusual at that moment. The smell, I mean: human perspiration....
A View From the Sidewalk | Nonfiction

A View From the Sidewalk | Nonfiction

Atlanta Writers Club Presents… Rick Bragg Prize for Nonfiction Winner: Harry Duke   A View From the Sidewalk   When I retired, I decided to open a sidewalk produce stand. I did not need the money. I just needed something to do and to feel good about...
Sestina for My Mother | Poetry

Sestina for My Mother | Poetry

Atlanta Writer’s Club Presents… The Natasha Trethewey Prize for Poetry Winner: Elizabeth Bracken   Sestina for My Mother   When I was four, I would sit in a brown wooden chair in the kitchen and my mother would braid my hair. Then she would turn...

Fresh disruptive content delivered right to your inbox.