Latte Archives: Tags “Contests”

Fall 2014 Issue

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 | Leave a comment

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 | 10 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

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 | 10 Responses

Fall 2013 Issue

With All the Trouble Jesus Went Through He Should at Least Get a Jelly Bean By Heather Tucker

Winner, 2013 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Dad’s taken Charlie ahead to ball practice while I continue to scour Sideline 22 for Mom’s uterus. Mom’s always losing something. I don’t mind being left to carry out search and rescue. I suck at ball. Besides, any minute now Lori Penter will be coming home from her piano lesson. She’s forbidden to talk to me on account of the holy war, but if she was allowed, she’d say hi — maybe.

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged , | 7 Responses

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…

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | Leave a comment

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….

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | Leave a comment

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…

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | Leave a comment

Winter 2013 Issue

Force By Teresa Leo

Third Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
I ask my husband, ever the literalist,
if he missed me before he knew me…

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 3 Responses

Birding by Ear By Susan Cohen

First Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
We’re mostly couples of that age when people start
to wonder what they’ve missed,
and set out to find it evenings…

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | 4 Responses

The Past Life Hypnotist Predicts The Future By Judith Slater

Winner, 2012 Literal Latte Short Short Contest.
Just a few minutes ago I began to feel the tide tugging a little harder, the fog closing in, and I knew without looking at my watch that it was close to quitting time. I’m tired — bone weary, really. In the space of only one afternoon I took a threesome of middle-aged women back, one by one, to 18th-century Lisbon….

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 3 Responses

Luffing By Mary Heather Noble

Second Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Essay Award.
When I think about my father, the picture that always comes to mind is him standing on the shore of Lake Erie against the distant Cleveland skyline. He watches the wind socks on the pier waving in the breeze, their streamers a rainbow contrast against the blurry city beyond. I imagine in his mind a single perpetual question: Is it going to be a good day for a sail?

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 5 Responses

The Other Chair By Annita Sawyer

First Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Essay Award.
On G8-East, an inpatient psychiatry unit at the West Haven VA hospital, it was time for team meeting. I scribbled the last of my therapy notes, tucked the pen and notebook under my arm, grabbed my sweater, and slipped a loaded key ring over my wrist….

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 1 Response

Kritios Boy By Nancy Ludmerer

Third Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Essay Award.
I’d always remembered Michael’s birthday, even when years and miles separated us, and when there it was in The New York Times death notices after his name, I knew it was him, my first love, beginning when I was fifteen….

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 8 Responses

A Kite, A Frame, A Tail By Gregory Loselle

Second Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
Consider how a kite struck from the sky
collapses on itself and creases up
in flight: a battered bird, a broken hand…

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | Leave a comment

Freefall By Susan Cohen

First Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Poetry Award.
He plans to plummet
from the edge of space.
Freefall. Rainfall. Whirlwind….

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged | Leave a comment

Mistaken Identity By Enid Harlow

Third Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
In a corner of the room sits an old man with sparse white hair, face of chalk, and fixed blue eyes. His body is as thin as a cadaver’s and his eyes stare out into the room as if they would seize everything in it and take it down into themselves. The baby at the breast cannot see the old man sitting in the corner….

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 18 Responses

Fall 2012 Issue

Amanda’s Violin By Judy Fort Brenneman

Third Prize, 2011 Literal Latte Essay Award.
The round table at the coffee shop is covered with a dark green and tan cloth. The four chairs fill its arc on the side away from the wall. I’m on one end of the arc; my backpack and a white teddy bear named Snowball fill the next two chairs; and Amanda, a slight, elven-faced girl-child of ten, sits in the fourth chair….

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 4 Responses

I’m Not Writing About Robin By Wendy Thornton

Second Prize, 2011 Literal Latte Essay Award.
My friend, Robin, died recently. I drove across the country to visit her before she died, to remind her that her bravery made me brave. She seemed comforted by this thought, as much as you can be comforted when you know you’re going to die within a specific timeframe….

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 8 Responses

Sinking the Eight By Marc Nieson

First Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
It seems your life can be measured. And I’m not talking about notches in a doorway, candles on a cake, or even that line between dates on your tombstone, but individual moments. Split seconds, really, that’ll come along quiet and fleeting as heartbeats yet divert your destinations nonetheless….

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 3 Responses