Non-Fiction

Breast cancer causes profound loss and grief. We grieve the loss of our bodies. We grieve the loss of our feminine identity.

Once, in an ultrasound room, a technician in a faded grey frock asked me which pregnancy this was. “My ninth,” I said in a flat voice.

It doesn’t matter how old the wound is; the mere mention of him makes my mood shift. “Let the past be the past,” they claim. I am. “What’s your problem?” I have none.

I write this to remember, David. I need something more fluid than a photograph, something that comprehends more of you…”

I relax my hands and remember that, when we work together, we know what to do. They guide me to the right place without fail, and slip in easily with a sigh.

It is a sweltering night the first time I am unfaithful. One of those late July nights where the city clings to you. Hollywood is on fire.

“Alison, Daddy died today,” spoke my mom. She had positioned me on a wicker-backed bar stool in the center of my kitchen…

To Hell and Back in Time for Dinner

– Creative Non-Fiction by A’nah Nymas – April 5, 2018 – 

I packed a bag with a few outfits and antiperspirant; I heard it gets hot in hell. Read More »To Hell and Back in Time for Dinner

Three Hots and a Cot is a creative non-fiction piece by Elizabeth Christie that describes her childhood in a “Christ-adjacent” Catholic family.