A story about the art of a handwritten recipe and the tasty legacy one Florida grandmother left behind.
by Carrie Allen Tipton Ever since the advent of text messaging several years ago, my mother faithfully sends a peculiar annual dispatch, a yearly version of the phrase “I’m headed to Glory tonight,” hurtling through the ether from her phone in northwest Mississippi
With short, shuffling steps and a rocking gait, he made his way from the end of Main Street through the parking lot of Walker’s Drive-In, carefully placing his cane, navigating the roots of the giant oak that had erupted through the crumbling asphalt. His Sunday best sagging over his bent frame and a gray fedora on his head
The 1,500 miles between my dorm room in Rhode Island and my parents’ house in Mississippi made visits difficult. Though I flew home for Thanksgiving my freshman year, I gently explained to my mom that the appalling price of the ticket seemed a bit excessive to attempt four years in a row. And so the following Thanksgiving,
It can be easy to think these days that everything has already been discovered, and not only that, digitized too — that all the books have been scanned and the rivers charted, leaving not a square inch of Terra Incognita on Google Earth. But anyone who has done any kind of archival research knows otherwise
by Kayla Smith Sometimes when I hear people with southern accents, I almost wish my own were stronger. It’s not because of a desire to sound southern so much as because I don’t want people to think I’m intentionally trying not to.
by Rebecca Brady Tears trickled from my half-shut eyes, not quite surrendered to the dawn that pried and pleaded with them to open. I could hear the birds chirping outside, bidding each other good morning, and for a moment I forgot whose pillow had been cradling my head.
by Heather Philpot Even though I was a weird little kid back in the ‘80’s, one with a hideous home perm, a mouthful of braces, and a compulsion to fidget - EVEN with all of that - I considered myself blessed. Blessed, because I had a saint. My saint was