Prism & Pen
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This is an email from The Digest, a newsletter by Prism & Pen.

Hot Nights and Love

Weekly Digest — August 23, 2020

by Esther Spurrill-Jones

Photo by Ava Sol on Unsplash

This week where I live in Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada, we broke so many heat records. The frozen north has never been so hot, ever. We had five days in a row of over 30C, nearly reaching 37C (98.6F). It was the kind of humid heat where you don’t feel like doing anything.

Gladly, we had some really good stuff to read this week in Prism & Pen. From tales of summer and beaches, to dancing in the dark, to real and raw personal stories, we have a lot of great writing to highlight.

If you’re not Medium member, click on the underlined text links to bypass the paywall.

Editors Picks


Summer of Love

Elle Fredine crafted a tale of hippies and rainbows. But this is not all sunshine and unicorns. There is a dark twist to this tale.

I fired up the bus. As I pulled onto the gravel road to the campground, I caught Ariel’s eye in the rear-view. I wondered if she’d seen me staring at Charlie. She winked.

My cheeks flamed. I wrenched my gaze away and concentrated on the road.


She Made Me Dance

Gaby Rosales answers the night music prompt with a dreamy poem of dance and love.

We danced
we kissed
and we left the party behind.

Creative Nonfiction

Siri: Find Me a Hot Spot.

Gabe Evaristo’s first piece with us is a prose ode to secret places where you can be yourself.

Let’s start from the beginning: every queer person I know dreams of a place like this, but you can hardly find much of a description online.


Night Music

I walked into the forest, following the music, and the trees and brush closed in around me. Above, the silvery cold light of the moon filtered only weakly through the branches. But ahead, where the music led me, a golden light flickered and danced among the trees, leading me on.

The Chicken-Fried, Cedar Point Summer of 1983

I’ve been coming to Cedar Point since I was a little kid. In fact, I had my only near-death experience on the Mine Ride.

Gondwana Retreat

It was Christmas, and Bryn Hunter was sitting in the shade of a giant Myrtle Beech tree not far from his parents house in a tiny remote settlement in the Otway Ranges. His shirt was wringing wet. Running a mile in hundred degree Fahrenheit (40 Celsius) heat will do that. An hour before, he had made a serious miscalculation. He had gambled and lost.

Creative Nonfiction

Grief Reveals Elusive Nature of LGBTQ Equality

Did you know heteronormativity can screw up family grieving?

I didn’t understand how much it could get in the way until last weekend when I needed family very badly. Even though I’m fully out as gay and even though some of my family are outwardly cool with that, I had to grip important thoughts and feelings inside myself as my father lay dying.

My Disappointing Introduction to Gay Sex

He had a stage laugh designed to reach the second balcony, and he delivered a monologue with an occasional rhetorical question. He didn’t pause long enough for me to respond. He touched me as intimately and frequently as the streets of New York City would allow in 1975. And I didn’t move away.


Come Out

staring out the win
dow of life people buzz
brilliantly before me

One Finger on Warm Lips

I know you could breathe again if you but decided to try, for
your skin is so red, so plump with hot blood I know you can’t really be dead

Love Will Never End

You wouldn’t come to bless my wedding day
So I went out into the streets, highways,
And I invited everyone around.
But you were angry at the friends I’d found.

I am beautiful

I am beautiful
I am whole
You tried but you cannot break me
You tried but you cannot end me
You tried but you cannot kill me

And that’s another week at Prism & Pen. If you’re still working on submissions for A Little Night Music, we look forward to seeing those!

Remember that any pieces published in Prism & Pen today will be in next week’s Digest.



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