A New Kind of Literary Pulse

A man she had not known was wearing the skin of the boy she had known all her life. His rust-brown eyes, the roundness of his lips, and the mole near his collarbone were the same pieces of desire ...  [+]

Melinda hears the wind blowing outside when her hands are buried in a bowl full of lotus seeds. If she were out in the woods, she could feel the autumn chills running down her spine. Yet she chooses ...  [+]