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Recently, I came home from work and found a notice on my door informing me that maintenance had been in my apartment. I was glad.
By Levi Jachère
Ryan hid his sweating hands in the pocket of his jacket. Felt the smooth surface of the object within, the reassurance of its presence.
Not one drop dampened the ground. The dirt as dry as ever. A one-lane blacktop road led from the trailer, winding like a rattlesnake down into the valley. No rainwater gathered on the pavement and Freddie’s eyes burned from the sun.
By Travis Lee
What was he, the kind of teacher he never believed could actually exist?
Today is a beautiful day
By Ann Iverson
Two children have soaked each other with water guns, arms lethargic in the heat
By K. T. Mills
The Rumen is a collaboration between writers, poets, and artists from a variety of demographics and backgrounds. Like the guts of an ungulate, we want The Rumen to be a space for ideas and experiences to digest, ferment, and transform.
We are especially interested in publishing contributors from historically underrepresented people groups.
You should expect that it will be dark outside most of the time. You may have been woken from warm woolly dreams. Branches might be whipping your window.
By Nat Kishchuk
Negotiating the rapidly evolving modern romantic landscape... in style.
By Rebecca Lee
For her forty-sixth birthday, Sara’s brother and sister gave her a rubber cow about a half inch long.
By Sara Read
An examination of the August 12 riots that shook Charlottesville, VA, by someone who probably shouldn't have been there in the first place
Today is a beautiful day
By Ann Iverson
Recently, I came home from work and found a notice on my door informing me that maintenance had been in my apartment. I was glad.
By Levi Jachère
Ryan hid his sweating hands in the pocket of his jacket. Felt the smooth surface of the object within, the reassurance of its presence.
Two children have soaked each other with water guns, arms lethargic in the heat
By K. T. Mills
You should expect that it will be dark outside most of the time. You may have been woken from warm woolly dreams. Branches might be whipping your window.
By Nat Kishchuk
Not one drop dampened the ground. The dirt as dry as ever. A one-lane blacktop road led from the trailer, winding like a rattlesnake down into the valley. No rainwater gathered on the pavement and Freddie’s eyes burned from the sun.
By Travis Lee
The Rumen is a collaboration between writers, poets, and artists from a variety of demographics and backgrounds. Like the guts of an ungulate, we want The Rumen to be a space for ideas and experiences to digest, ferment, and transform.
We are especially interested in publishing contributors from historically underrepresented people groups.