University of San Francisco's Student-Run Literary Magazine
by Edward Michael Supranowicz Julie wandered the street like an orphan, an orphan of everything. Her clothes hung on her like she had slipped into them absentmindedly and was still trying to put them on. Her straight black hair was clipped into brutal bangs in the front and straight across on the sides and back,… Continue reading Middle of a Room
by Rowan MacDonald I met the badger on a cold night in May, in the cobblestone alley two streets down from the Rose and Crown. I needed to pee after too many pints of the Crown’s finest and knew my bladder wouldn’t survive a journey to the nearest taxi rank. The alley was deserted and… Continue reading What a Badger Might Say If You Met Him Down a Dark Alley One Night in May
by Nicole Cifani Lehmann-Haupt I’ve figured out how to solve for the coworker crush. Since we work remotely, all I have to do is find a way to see her in person. By doing so, I will prove to myself that the entire notion of fantasy-based infatuation is a myth, predicated on old sailor songs… Continue reading Coworker Crush
by Marina Hill Hudson sat on the dirty plastic seat on the six train on November sixth, riding downtown to work. Middle of the week. Saturday could not come faster even if it wanted to. Saturday knew it was most desired and loved to play the tease—cheeky bastard. New Yorkers shoved their way into the… Continue reading AirPods on the Six Train
by Vivian Lawry Charlie settles his junk into the leopard-patterned thong and turns side to side, admiring his ink. He hip-checks the dresser drawer that holds his work clothes: thongs in animal prints, solid metallic silks, leathers soft as bridal gloves, paisleys and florals, geometric designs, and specialty ones for holidays. The holiday designs—sequins, hearts,… Continue reading Inked Man
by Peter Bauer The sun grew fat and sank nearer to the horizon. The desert sky bloomed into oranges and purples. In this desert, hidden in the hills and noble cacti, an unnatural structure protruded from the earth: It was a radio tower, set up alongside a recreational vehicle and an old Subaru, some 20… Continue reading King of the Cacti
by Clay Glaus All Bucko could do was watch the dark silver-colored clouds gather above him and hear the crackle of thunder as a storm began to form, making it too dangerous to fly for the day. He was a Canadian goose who had spent the past couple of days making the journey southward to… Continue reading Lonesome Journey
by Clay Hobson Somewhere at the edge of Virginia, there is a house with faded yellow paint flaking away at the corners. In one of its dimly lit rooms, there is a little boy sitting with his legs pretzeled underneath himself with all the sharp edges of barbed wire, fingers tracing patterns through the carpet… Continue reading Myosotis
by Caitlin Upshall He called it the color of envy. The old tales say that it was once his color. His armies wore it while they conquered the world. But soon, the armies became the rebels, and the world grew smaller behind tall walls. The rebels used the color as the only mockery they could… Continue reading Remember Your Blue
by Daniel Webre Everywhere I looked, I could see ships’ sails. Odd for a parking lot with no water. I thought at first that a show was in progress, like the ones the old men hold on Saturdays with their classic cars. Since these were sails, I’d expected boats, but there were none. Instead, the… Continue reading Sails
Ignatian Literary Magazine 