Puppy
Puppy By Rebecca Cohen Before there were words, there was Puppy. Before memory, Puppy. My first word: “Puppy.” Puppy: a gift from Grandma at our first meeting,... Read more.
What Did You Do?
WHAT DID YOU DO? BY REBECCA COHEN Trigger Warning: This story alludes to childhood sexual assault. In second grade a neighbor kid invited me over to show off how... Read more.
This World
THIS WORLD BY REBECCA COHEN Riverbank refuge, where nobody says I don’t belong. Where there are no words at all. My ears rest into rustling leaves, flowing water,... Read more.
Angel’s Lament
Angel’s Lament BY REBECCA COHEN Michael, I swear, some days I just want to rip off these wings, toss the halo, and go drive a bus or something. City bus, school... Read more.
Firewalk
FIREWALK BY REBECCA COHEN Firewalk I The witch in the blue hockey bus. She of the round tarot cards, the friendly insults over backgammon, tea poured from the... Read more.
Sucker Punch
Sucker Punch BY REBECCA COHEN Trigger Warning: Mention of incest/genetic sexual attraction The summer before eighth grade—the summer after mom married the boyfriend... Read more.
Why I’m Still Here
Why I’m Still Here By Rebecca Cohen I survived.I lived.I grew. Despite the howling void, the nothing place. Despite my landing—ripped from home—in terror... Read more.
Conversation with Claudia
CONVERSATION WITH CLAUDIA BY REBECCA COHEN I’d been watching her, this girl, my stepdaughter, for three years. Feeling her. Feeding her. Here she was, curled... Read more.