Michael Gray
A Memory of Hands

Michael Gray - A Memory of Hands

Mike Gray received his MFA from Florida Atlantic University in 2012 and currently serves as an English Instructor at Hazard… Read more »
Craig Buchner
American Metal

Craig Buchner - American Metal

Craig Buchner’s short stories have appeared in Tin House, Hobart, SmokeLong Quarterly, and other literary journals. Craig teaches writing and… Read more »
Joshua Idaszak

Joshua Idaszak - Aralık

Joshua Idaszak is from Washington, DC. He has lived and worked in Australia, Turkey, and Spain, and will be attending… Read more »
Justin Brouckaert

Justin Brouckaert - Charlevoix

Justin Brouckaert’s work has appeared in The Rumpus and Passages North, among other publications. He is a James Dickey Fellow… Read more »
Kate Lister Campbell
Free Swim

Kate Lister Campbell - Free Swim

Kate Lister Campbell lives with her husband in Brooklyn, NY, but is originally from Kansas City, MO. When not writing,… Read more »
Vincent Poturica

Vincent Poturica - Habte

Vincent Poturica lives in Gainesville, FL, but he will soon be moving with his soon-to-be wife to Long Beach, CA.… Read more »
Meng Jin
The Weeping Widow

Meng Jin - The Weeping Widow

Meng Jin was born in Shanghai, China, and now lives in New York City where she is an MFA candidate… Read more »
Landon Houle
When Trapped in a Car under Water

Landon Houle - When Trapped in a Car under Water

Born in Brown County, Texas, Landon Houle currently lives in South Carolina and works as an editor at In Fact… Read more »


Joshua Idaszak

It never crossed my mind that Ahmet would jump from that minaret. I didn’t think he had it in him. Over the year I’d spent with him I’d only seen what could be called intent in his eyes briefly, just once, toward the end of my time in eastern Turkey. He was a man of absence. If you grew comfortable with this fact he became your friend. I had no choice. I knew no one else in that town.

I met Ahmet in Iğdır. I had moved there from Gaziantep after a Foreign Service Officer found me a teaching position at Iğdır University. He was tall, and thin, a graduate student from Aralık, a village a few hours southeast of town. He wore white dress shirts that were always pressed and primly tucked into his slacks, billowing shirts that gave only the faintest hint of a body beneath. He was writing his thesis on some aspect of the province’s soil. He seemed more of an idea than a man.

Iğdır University was two years old and existed, more or less, on the fifth and sixth floors of an abandoned shopping complex in the center of town. The days… Read more »