Five Minutes explores five minutes of a life in one hundred words. Five minutes is edited by Susanna Baird, with editorial support from managing editor Maria s. picone, newsletter editor kate meen, and founding reader bobbi lerman, plus our rotating team of guest readers, who you can meet in the latest newsletteR. Five Minutes was founded in October 2020, with the Salem (Mass.)-based writing group Carrot Cake Writers supplying the journal’s first pieces. We’d love to read your five. Submit here

Again

I’m helping my son with his reading when the phone rings. The new apartment is dizzying with paint fumes, despite the open windows. My spouse picks up, steps into the hallway for discretion as if I don’t know what it’s about. I know. I dreamt it last night. A giggling tow-headed toddler girl skipping away from me in a meadow. That’s how I knew last time. A blond boy. A meadow. My hand pets my still, rounded belly. I correct my son’s pronunciation. My spouse’s face appears, pallid with apology. The doctor said to come in. “He says don’t hurry.”

joj grew up an American nomad on welfare. They now live, write, and parent their four children in southern France. Find joj on Twitter and Instagram @jojthefirst and subscribe to their substack at thejojshow.substack.com.

Salt in the Wound

From the Window