- By Abby MacGregor
Last time, that was nice, all of us there, and her sat sideways
on a chair, short of breath after bringing out the yams, a slab
in their thick pyrex. And the last time I saw Michael naked
was nice because I noted the color of his skin—cream with one
tablespoon of coffee stirred in, that precise, one tablespoon. . .
—from "Thanksgiving at Mom's, That", Fall 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 3)
Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.