“The cemetery stood on an island. People said that one day the island would disappear beneath the water. My father wanted to record the place before that happened. So we began keeping notes and drawings of everything we noticed there.”
Three Stops
Flash Fiction: Peaches
“Wait,” he would tell us. “You’ll have to wait.”
Rye Tippett: Poems and Paintings
Some poems and paintings from Rye Tippett.
Dark Days
Hello, fellow Magpies. It’s been a very dark week in America, and I would like to apologize to really everyone everywhere. I’ve got nothing. I really feel like I’ve got nothing. However […]
Grandma and Grandpa’s House
“When we got up the nerve to crack the door open, we were immediately met with the smell of air that hadn’t been smelled in a long time: a mix of dust, musk, and cedar — a whiff that gave a sense, even to a kid, of past lives and an odor that we didn’t experience in the city, where every space seemed to be in constant use and never remained closed off for long.”
