Digital Commons Network^™

A Sweet Kid, William Torphy

Bryant Literary Review

I wait anxiously in the United terminal sipping a cup of coffee and feeling ungrounded. My nephew’s flight from Baltimore is late because of a severe weather system over the Midwest. My sister Kat tells me that Justin has become very selfish, even for a teenager, and that he lies and constantly tries to manipulate.

Going For Wood, Molly Vaux

Bryant Literary Review

I.

I would never have chosen a window seat, but there I was, staring at great banks of clouds while the plane, rocked by invisible currents, sailed upward.

Weeds In Her Curly Hair, Hareendran Kallinkeel

Bryant Literary Review

“I need a dagger,” Shiva says, “double-edged…and razor-sharp.”

The blacksmith turns from his furnace and stares at him in
surprise. What the hell is a renowned writer doing here? he thinks as he
stands up and walks towards Shiva.

Mud And Truth, Hannah Kass

Bryant Literary Review

Tsofi knew the story since her mother began telling it to her and her brother almost every night. Other villagers would notice how her people did not eat the same meat or observe the same day of rest. In her mind those differences were as arbitrary as preferring to eat lamb or chicken. Yet such arbitrary reasons had sparked the most violent of reactions.

Dreams Of Flight, Beth Paulson

Bryant Literary Review

A man with wings large enough and duly attached might learn to overcome the resistance of air. Leonardo da Vinci

No Icarus, you knew pulleys and winches would keep a man tethered
to earth though he rise high above a stage for a duke’s entertainment.
In your fabrico you built mechanical birds of wood and bright-dyed
linen, then raised men up on ropes to fly and float, angels with dark
curls, gilt-edged wings.

Jaffa Coffee, Tehila Wenger

Bryant Literary Review

The waitress placed the cappuccino down carefully on my left, next to the open computer. I glanced into the mug and noted that there was no design in the foam. My anticipation for the caffeinating process dropped immediately by several degrees, along with my belief in the basic goodness of mankind.

That Thing, Susan Taylor Chehak

Bryant Literary Review

My pap’s eyes are bad. It’s not the books or the computer, not the
peering at small letters on a page or on a screen. And it isn’t just a
consequence of age either. His peepers went bad a long time ago, when
he was young.

An Open Letter To The White Feminists Holding A Literary Panel On Toni Morrison, Matthew E. Henry

Bryant Literary Review

look to your left, your right—where

are her sisters? why are they missing?

Amends, Renay Costa

Bryant Literary Review

Quinn searched the chalkboard menu of the café deliberating what the appropriate beverage would be. What does a soon-to-be-divorcée drink while composing a letter to the man she separated from about a month ago? Wine would be the obvious option, but she was now a member of Alcoholics Anonymous, and the letter was part of the ninth step, which required her to “make direct amends” to those she had harmed, and tonight she was attempting her amends to Gil, her soon-to-be ex-husband. A pumpkin spice latte, her regular order, seemed too saccharine and sentimental.

Raul, Paul Lamar

Bryant Literary Review

On the twelfth day of his new job as a security guard outside of S–, one of M–’s finest men’s shops, Raul B– stumbled upon a unique answer to the question of store security, though he was never to be aware of his particular gift or its profound impact on crime in M–.