Latte Archives: Tags “Contests”

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 | 7 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 | 6 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…

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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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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 | 2 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 | 4 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 | 7 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…

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Freefall By Susan Cohen

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

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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

The Limits of Certainty By Renée Thompson

Second Prize, 2012 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
He was most alive while birding. In summer he pitched a tent, prepared his meals on a Coleman stove, and drank coffee from an aluminum cup. He crawled into his sleeping bag just after dusk and rose before sunrise, ate a breakfast of one boiled egg or half a banana, then prepared his field gear…

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 9 Responses

Tinkering with Grief in the Woods By Mark Liebenow

First Prize, 2011 Literal Latte Essay Award.
I sit in my shorts by an open window in Kentucky surrounded by a hundred sleeping monks. Beyond the monastery’s stone walls, beyond the dark scrabbled woods of hickory and oak, a dog barks at raccoons moving through the night, or at nothing at all, and the world settles back down into quiet….

Posted in Essays | Also tagged | 7 Responses

Our Potluck (Your Contribution) By Daniel A. Harris

Winner, 2012 Literal Latte Food Verse Contest.
“Cupcakes?!” “Oui, mais cupcakes de France!” you purr.
We grin — that coarse word young Julia, post-war,
would have scorned. Il n’ya pas un mot français….

Posted in Poetry | Also tagged , | 3 Responses

Fall 2010 Issue

The Philosophers Club By Leslie Rodd

First Prize, 2010 Literal Latte Fiction Award.
In the shadows of early afternoon, on a day of breakthroughs, I’m standing with Smitty and Sonya in front of the Kansas Asylum for the Insane in Topeka, where we’ve come to visit Monica. It’s June, 1940. We graduated from high school last week — our ceremony cancelled because of the tragedy — and already we’re feeling old.

Posted in Fiction | Also tagged | 3 Responses
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