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Jennifer Andrews

She stands on a steel girder, her feet hooked around its ice edge, her hand wrapped tight around a cabled wire, her body, pulsing, pulsing in the wind.

Matilde and the Monster

Fernando Montiel Sanchez

On a warm fall day that smelled of earth and rain, Matilde stood in the middle of the backyard with her husband, Fernando, trying to figure out a game for their children to play—a game that would not frighten them.…

Lines in Her Smile

Eleanor Buckland

There’s a big red photo album tucked away in my parents’ bedroom. On late afternoons, the yard in long shadows, the sunlight shallow, I used to sneak into their room and pore over the photos for hours, getting lost in…