by Brattle Street Review | Jul 21, 2026 | Fiction, Issue #06
She rested at an empty table in the restaurant. Her purchases propped across from her as if they were company. Stranger’s conversations swirled around her with excitement of the season and she heard the speakers overhead. Let her heart be light. It had been four...
by Brattle Street Review | Jul 20, 2026 | Issue #06, Poetry
The blond hair of a child—fall leaves burned on the groundThe soft skin of her hand—smooth texture on the birch.The bear sleeping on the iced surface—her mother’s bellyYour eyes, blue, green, brown hurricane, watching me at all times.I’m a sinner,I use your body,I...
by Brattle Street Review | Jul 20, 2026 | Issue #06, Poetry
The world is simply, a stage. A stage for the man or woman with the greatest deeds. This environment – yes, this environment,is a garden full of many different roses,that began with a faithless seed. The moment that seed found a purpose,it began to grow,And the most...
by Brattle Street Review | Jul 20, 2026 | Issue #06, Poetry
Her head high and her standards higher.She locks her heart when they inquirefearing it can’t handle a spark;avoiding heartbreak leaves no mark. Play it safe, she tells herself,fairy tales are for the shelf.Thoughts keep her awake at night;they always end in fight or...
by Brattle Street Review | Jun 30, 2026 | Current Issue, Essays, Issue #15
I peed on my sister’s head, and she saved my life. In 1974 I was a ragamuffin four-year-old with unkempt mousy brown hair who wore the same outfit most days: patched polyester faux-denim bellbottoms and a Strawberry Shortcake blouse. My sister Mardi was two years...