Stories by Jessica Tackett
To everyone who was rejected from the creative writing program: Here's proof that it's not a big deal.
With the smell of the old hammer -- iron and rust, like blood -- in her nose, she pounded the nail into the molding slightly to the left of where the plate hung.
One writer reflects on how three days of fasting changed her life.
They light the road, lanterns burning in the fields. They know the path, and hide its hazards.