Stories by
Bryn Yoder

Golden lights in the sky, acoustic guitar, brick patio at a stranger’s house. When I met you, I understood why people write poetry.

Bryn Yoder works odd jobs while waiting for a long-lost Nigerian relative to pass and bestow his fortune upon her. Fingers crossed.

We grew up together without ever exchanging a word. It was only after she was buried in the cold earth that I accepted her friend request.

Bryn Yoder works odd jobs while waiting for a long-lost Nigerian relative to pass and bestow his fortune upon her. Fingers crossed.