I began the day by trying to unvisit it or yesterday or the weeks that came before it.

Supine, Brigid stares unblinking at the ceiling, paisley duvet pulled all the way up and over her nose so that only her eyes and forehead re

By Sylvie Epstein I remember the smooth skin of each cherry—some red, some yellow, some red-yellow, some almost black—and how they felt...

The Blue and White continues its short fiction series with a story from a recent graduate from Columbia College.