Category: short story conferences should revolve around a heightened moment of conflict

  • Northern Ascendancy: The Moxie of the Imperfect

      I crossed a border yesterday. For a passport-toting white woman nowhere near Arizona, this should have been a straightforward endeavor. However, I failed to factor in that the airplane slotted to fly me out of Duluth was to have come from Chicago, and Chicago is windy and foggy and muggy and corrupt. Plus, pilots out of Chicago often […]