Propagation
I wake to her fingers on my cheek, heavy and sweet-smelling. My body protests with a sharp yawn as I take her in through the sleep haze. Leg cramp? Nightmare? Do I need to change the sheets?
I wake to her fingers on my cheek, heavy and sweet-smelling. My body protests with a sharp yawn as I take her in through the sleep haze. Leg cramp? Nightmare? Do I need to change the sheets?
Milagros had never climbed a tree in her life, her father wouldn’t allow it. Just as he had forbidden her from going with her cousin to the concert tonight. She swallowed the lump in her throat and kicked off her sandals to make the climb easier.
Mom died on Tuesday. On Friday she returned. I slept until eleven that day (it had been increasingly hard to get out of bed). When I finally shuffled into the kitchen, I saw her.
January swallowed me
With my claws and my plans
and dreams
Sprung early from school in mid-May, Rose Wilson started her ‘wild rose summer,’ by boarding a VIA Rail train in Kingston, Ontario. This was the summer she turned 12, so this four-month adventure to Alberta included her parents and her three younger siblings.
The deadline for the Dreamers Writing Contest on place and home is January 31. Submit a heartfelt story, poem, or essay reflecting on belonging, memory, displacement, or the meaning of home. Open internationally. $250 CAD prize and publication.
We’re pleased to announce the simultaneous release of Dreamers Magazine Issues 21 and 22.These two issues were shaped during very different moments…
Congratulations to the winners of the 2025 Dreamers Flash Fiction and Nonfiction Contest!
At our Case Conference yesterday, you represented my ex-husband, but for a fleeting moment, I heard you advocate for me while attempting to acknowledge an injustice that caused you discomfort.