The fact of being no longer is how the denotation begins. If you stop there, the word that surfaces is death. The end of being. The end of life, at least as we have known it. But if you continue—the fact of being no ...
The Death of the Firstborn by Julie Marie Wade
LAR Online, Nonfiction
The air tasted sticky, like mold and honey on the backs of our mouths, the day of the neighborhood yard sale. I was seven, or maybe eight, and lonely in the humid Southern summer. We’d hoped a collective yard sale ...
To Have a Body by Alice Martin
LAR Online, Nonfiction
It turns out it would have been snowing on your birthday. Large soft flakes fly up like down, and later corn snow bounces off my black coat. And it would have been raining. And it would have been sunny. And the wind ...
Lamentation 2 by Anne de Marcken
LAR Online, Nonfiction
My four-year-old is obsessed with my ex-husband.
“That is David Nields,” says Johnny pointing at a circle with dots for eyes, a big U for a smile, and two stick legs coming down from the circle’s bottom. He ...
Jack the Giant Killer by Nerissa Nields
LAR Online, Nonfiction
Final Judge: Chelsey Clammer
Life Support by Andrew Wei
In North Texas, the place I knew as home for many years, the storms in late spring come down like a hammer. One warm humid afternoon, I stepped outside just ...
Los Angeles Review 2023 Creative Nonfiction Award: Andrew Wei
Award Winners, LAR Online, Nonfiction
I never intended to go back to my old neighborhood. I’d been visiting a friend in Glendale, and when the familiar exit appeared, the steering wheel seemed to turn of its own accord. I slid into a parking spot in front ...
On Letting Go by Amber Foster
LAR Online, Nonfiction
When you walk along the path, it curves slowly to the right, turning out of view only just before the horizon line. Trees line both sides, and they grow, like all trees on the plains, along a stream and out from a ...
Twixt Eden and Gethsemane: Notes on Contaminants of Concern in Wichita, Kansas by Jeromiah Taylor
LAR Online, Nonfiction
Before
“I hope I’m not boring you,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I said.
“Look, that’s what it says here.”
My husband, balanced on the bottom step of a broad stairway of the detached, ...
A Frail Perishable Thing by Frances Hider
LAR Online, Nonfiction
A police officer pulls me out of school my first day of first grade. Or is it my second day? Am I called to the front office, or does she march into our classroom? Do I even go to school that day, or does my mother ...