Sundog at My Window on a Midwestern Winter’s Afternoon

By L. Soviero

“The dead man remembers the warm sheets from the dryer in winter, the velvety softness of the fur behind his dog’s ear, the calluses in the wood floor against the ones on his feet.”

By Ani King

“My mom has never been one for much crying. Not that she never cried, she was a child once, and sometimes one of my aunts will get the sharp, gleeful look of a wronged sibling about to cash in on a little emotional revenge.”