Creative Nonfiction

Photography by Leeta Harding

A Girl from Pakau
By Linda Gambill

As I ironed my bra, sweat dripped from my nose and splotched the lace. I set the iron down on the coals to heat it back up and wiped my head with a rag. I hardly ever ironed my clothes in Tennessee, much less my underwear. But in West Africa, where I was working as a health educator, creatures called toombo flies laid their eggs in laundry drying outdoors.

The Juror
By Linda Petrucelli

He frowned. “This is where it happened, isn’t it?”

The door shut behind me. “Were you a relative of Bill’s?”

“I was a member of the jury. We rendered the verdict just this morning. The judge wouldn’t allow us to come here during the trial. But I had to see it for myself. Did you know the man who died here?”

“Bill the Super? Everybody in the neighborhood knew Bill.”