Raven Reighard

Published in Kolob Canyon Review Rue is standing in the alley between a bar and a law firm, leaning against a cold brick wall, a nearby lamppost casting half his face in shadow. There’s a cigarette held between his two fingers, arm outstretched, his flannel falling down over his wrist. I hear the soft thumping of music as I approach him, a cold wind hitting my bare face. I pull my jacket closer to my body, shivering. He looks up at me then, a little more of his face illuminating, both his...

Francis Le holding a copy of their essay "This is a Fairy Tale" Francis and I met at a local coffee shop (with a book store attached) at noon. The place is decorated for Christmas, silver tinsel strung over wooden rafters and an angel tree set up in between the lounging area and the counter. It’s crowded this time of year, being only a few blocks from the university campus and a week away from finals. Francis is already there. Their coffee—an iced latte with a maple brown sugar syrup—is...

Below is the first section of my essay "About Grief" My grandma has been dead for one month. It’s my fault. At least I think it is. It’s been going around in my mind: If God is real, her death is His punishment for not believing in Him . It’s a long thought to be looped in my head. A stupid one, too. It doesn’t make sense, and yet, there it is, tormenting me. My father called me the day before she died. He was in tears, sobbing into the phone as he said, “Grandma had a heart attack. She’s...