Latte Archives: Tags “contest winner”

Winter 2016 Issue

Attached By Jessica Hutter

Winner, 2015 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Ms. Kramer was explaining the difference between infinitives and imperatives to Lily Spencer for — not kidding — the fifth time when Jarod Troutman slapped a pair of cuffs on her. Half a pair, technically. The other ring was attached to his own wrist…

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged , | 4 Responses

Coma By Tiffany Nelson

First Prize, 2015 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
It was a silly accident, really. They were idling at a four-way stop. Mark was preoccupied, his brain grappling for the fastest route to Auntie Donna’s house. They were already late. It had been three years since their last visit, and all the once-familiar streets were now littered with subdivisions full of crescents and cul-de-sacs….

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 9 Responses

Out of the Blue By Colin Brezicki

Second Prize, 2015 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
I learned of the mortal health risks in reading Shakespeare from my star pupil, Henry Sprague III. You could say Henry made an impact, though the irony might offend. It doesn’t take much to offend these days, and nothing does it like the truth…

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 7 Responses

Beneath By Jessica Hutter

Winner, 2015 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Night.
Homecoming starts after sunset.
The crowd spills in from the three directions: East lot, North lot, and Weir lot — the one named after the teacher who died the year before we came….

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There Are Things Which Need Fixing By Elisa Díaz Castelo

Second Prize, 2015 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
The old man’s hunch, the broken rib,
the lingering cough, the arm in a cast,
the ingrown toenail.
There are things that need fixing!

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 1 Response

In Defense of Goldie Locks By Jeanne Wagner

Third Prize, 2015 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
The social worker says She’s not quite a sociopath, though she does have a problem with boundaries. I say she’s only a child, young enough to play house,..

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 1 Response

Self-Portrait as Kurt Cobain’s Childhood Wound By Elizabeth Knapp

First Prize, 2015 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
If I were Kurt’s childhood wound, what would I look like? The speaker stares off into the middle distance and tries to imagine Aberdeen, mid-seventies, a flaxen-haired kid who would become the next rock legend, and not the gaping hole of his left eye socket…

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 1 Response

Spring 2015 Issue

Picnic at Angola By John Haggerty

Winner, 2014 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
All through the hot summer of 1957, whenever they had the time, Patricia wanted to picnic down near the prison at Angola. She liked to be right up close, as close as they could get without the guards shooing them away. She and Clemson would drive down one of the levees until the fences were in view…

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged , | 2 Responses

David the Green Dragon Goes to the Opera By Tamie Parker Song

Second Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Essay Award.
I was meeting three times a week, sometimes more, with a man. In between our meetings I waited to see him again. I drove through the traffic of Berkeley, meandered through Berkeley’s utopian grocery stores, every activity I did, really, just a disguise for waiting….

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 6 Responses

The World Recast by Flash Cards By Donald Levering

First Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
And when I came to
in that blasted wilderness
blurry and paralyzed
I had no words for who or where I was….

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 2 Responses

Relics By June Blumenson

Third Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
After
she was in the ground,
sent off to,
god knows where,
we returned to the house…

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 10 Responses

Fall 2014 Issue

The Book of Fishing By Mark Holden

Third Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
1961: The river ran cold and clear, alive with minnows. He waded in until the water reached his knees. Above him, the sun. Around him, the minnows: churning, flashing, crashing into his legs and bouncing off, each with barely the force of a fly. Yet there were hundreds, thousands, of jittery fish passing him wave after wave until white-crowned, gray-bellied clouds shrouded the sun and stole its power, and stole whatever had made the fish a moment ago vital….

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Affection By Shannon Sweetnam

Second Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
They moved into the squat brick Georgian in June. They bought trash cans and cleaning supplies, a plastic patio table and chair set, a shiny red front-propelled rear-bag lawn mower, three combination carbon monoxide detector fire alarms, two fire extinguishers, a fold-up escape ladder, a battery-operated weather radio, a gas grill, and — just in case — a wooden baseball bat Jake planned on keeping under the bed…

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 2 Responses

Danse Macabre By Susan Thomas

First Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
Again, the raccoons got it all, the corn,
frilly and long-limbed, so full of silken
rattle in the sideways-shifting wind….

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 1 Response

Dinner in the Branicki Palace By Susan Thomas

First Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
We stroll under beech trees,
all elegance and pleasure,
our fat babies in their lacy
bonnets, their fancy prams
just the same as Polish babies….

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 2 Responses

An Original Sin By Colin Brezicki

First Prize, 2014 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
We have heavy weather in Muskoka on this Saturday afternoon, a big winter storm coming through. I’m backing out of my drive, heading to the convenience for propane, a few perishables, some beer. We’re okay with wine. Steaks are marinating. Life is good.

Snowing for an hour already. Best to go before the roads are a problem, even for four-wheel drive.

Beth and Ciara are inside the cottage, a fire blazing in the grate. Another long weekend together, away from the city.

But I’ve forgotten my wallet….

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 2 Responses

Spring 2014 Issue

Juanita and the Beach of Fairies By Jean Guerrero

First Prize, 2013 Literal Latte Essay Award.
On April 23, 2011, during what is known in Mexico as Semana Santa — or “Holy Week” — I went swimming off of the coast of an abandoned beach at the edge of the northernmost jungle in the Americas, Los Tuxtlas, and a rip current sucked me out to sea.

Four other foreigners and I were the only people on the beach; we were a 20-minute hike from our rental vehicle and about an hour from the nearest town of Catemaco, a small lakeside pueblo known primarily for its shamans….

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 8 Responses

Wood Swivel Chairs By J. L. Cooper

Second Prize, 2013 Literal Latte Essay Award.
In 1959 I was a nine-year-old freckled blond kid wearing a Red Sox little league hat just to the left of center, hungry for swings at wild pitches and the chase of impossible fly balls. On Saturdays after games, my father brought me to the newsroom where he worked as city desk editor for a small paper struggling to remain a daily….

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 12 Responses

Going to Bed By Jed Myers

First Prize, 2013 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
These nights I slip down into sleep
in minutes, freed from a lifelong
ritual, the slow obsessive surrender
of my vigilance….

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 5 Responses

How To Be A Cowboy By S. Brady Tucker

Winner, 2013 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
By the time he gets there the calf is dead and has been for some time — the meat will be sour and rank by the time it gets to the hooks in the ruined barn; it won’t even be good enough to grind up for stew meat. He sees dollar signs dead in the water, but what’s another lost five hundred dollars at this point?

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged , | 9 Responses

Oddballs and Angels: A Tribute to Phoebe Snow By Glenn Berger

Third Prize, 2013 Literal Latte Essay Award.
In April of 2011, at the age of 60, singer/songwriter Phoebe Snow died. When I heard the news, I walked into my hallway, and stared at the gold record of her album, Second Childhood, which hung on my wall. I floated back to when I first met Phoebe. In 1973, I had just become an assistant recording engineer at A & R Studios in New York….

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 11 Responses

Fall 2013 Issue

For Love By Enid Harlow

Second Prize, 2013 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
The mother’s voice was loud. Too loud. The sound was startling. Her eyes were wide and bright. Frank wondered if she was taking drugs herself. A family thing. Or maybe she was plastered, had got herself appropriately inebriated for the occasion. Pickled. The word jumped into his mind, and he thought it apt. Pickled in mind and body for the occasion of her son’s funeral….

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 2 Responses

Toothache By Jack Miller

Winner, 2012 Literal Latte Food Verse Contest.
“I’ll meet you at the hotel,” you said, so I’d gone on alone despite the storm,
the wrong kind of sugar for the all-night drive. I gave up at 1 AM,
ice accreting on the windshield like rock candy on the string…

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Five-Course Noir By Jack Miller

Winner, 2012 Literal Latte Food Verse Contest.
D.O.A. begins near the end: Frank Bigelow, his blood bright
with luminous toxin, having solved the mystery of his own
murder. The rest is a dead man’s tale, an extended flashback….

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The French Have A Word For It By Jack Miller

Winner, 2012 Literal Latte Food Verse Contest.
Only in the Mysteries room would
you show me what you’d hidden,
slyly pulling from beneath your shirt
those strawberries…

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