Editing for this issue, there were a few key points that I looked for. I wanted writers who were genuine, who were compassionate, and who embodied human connection. I was pleasantly surprised to find an abundance of all three of these in the work of each writer, which we received.

There is a unique experience in hearing from hundreds of authors. In each story, two things can almost always be found: a piece of the author and a piece of one’s self. I found myself becoming connected to each author, taking a part of their story and keeping it with me, each story like a puzzle piece fitting together bit by bit. As I sat down each Sunday night to read that week’s submissions, a sense of unity began to form. To me, that is the core of a literary journal: each voice coming together in unison with each other, and with your own, to form one solitary message.

To me, the message in this issue is clear. We are in pain. In writing that pain and reading that pain, we need not bear it alone.

There is always something that calls one to write, and in this issue, that something was hurt, deep and aching hurt. In “Sharper On Flesh Than Wood,” a young boy deals with the confusion of growing up and lacking understanding of the world around him. In “Yellow Rice,” the speaker looks back on childhood mistakes made in ignorance, not yet old enough to comprehend death. In “Junebug,” a woman, at the advice of her therapist, confronts the past in letters to her abuser. Every author and poet expresses their pain in their own way, just as each reader connects with it in their own way.

We poured time and effort into this journal to catalogue stories that embody the human experience, and all that hurt which comes with it. We came together not only as editors, but as people, each bringing our own perspectives to each piece. Together we came to understand these stories as best we could. Together we shared in the pain of the authors and each other.

No small amount of love was put into this journal. Every author, every editor, and every reader makes this journal what it is. In sharing our pain with each other, we heal. So sincerely, thank you. To everyone who is a part of this journal, thank you. This would not be possible without you. Now, I won’t keep you any longer. Welcome to Issue 13.2 of the Rappahannock Review.

Lukas Fick, Lead Nonfiction Editor